


Push and Pull

by samwhambam



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to lovers to exes to friends to lovers, Everything is consensual, M/M, but i repeat that everything is consensual, david is just sad and hurt, slightly intoxicated hate sex at the end of chapter 1, slightly intoxicated sex at the end of chapter 2, there is some weed involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 63,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwhambam/pseuds/samwhambam
Summary: There was a large billboard ahead and he let his foot off the gas, slowing the car down and pulling off the road. The headlights lit up the sign and David couldn’t hold back the watery laugh, letting his head fall forward, forehead digging into the steering wheel.Schitt’s Creek.It’s real?Or, an enemies to lovers au
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 230
Kudos: 405





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, this could not have happened without this-is-not-nothing. Not only did she do beta work, but she listened to my spirals and let me complain and that's more work than beta-ing, honestly lmao
> 
> the fic is done and i'll post everyday/every other day. depends on how fast i edit. 
> 
> please enjoy!

_ “So I push you away and then I pull you in. _

_ We say what we have to say and make up again. _

_ We cut to the bone but just as soon as it mends, _

_ we're back to push and pull and oh it never ends.”  _

_ Push and Pull by Dolly Parton _

David tightened his grip on the steering wheel and glanced down at his knuckles, watching the skin tighten and turn white. He could feel the tears streaming down his face, each blink sending a new cascade past his eyelashes. They were dripping past his chin, dripping onto his sweater. The tears seeped into the cashmere but David couldn’t remove his hands from the wheel.

He had left Toronto with a tank full of gas and now he was down to less than a quarter tank, speeding down a country road he had never seen. He noticed, just a little too late, a gas station a ways down a dirt road. He contemplated stopping, backing up and taking the makeshift exit, but he was too far away now. He would have to wait for the next one. 

David kept driving. 

He wiped at the tears on his cheek, cringing at the puffy skin under his eyes. Which caused another dry sob to rip through his chest. He had been humiliated, all of his accomplishments had been ripped out from underneath him, like a tablecloth trick. But one where it goes wrong, and with a flourish everything falls to the ground and shatters, strewing glass all over the floor. 

_ “David, we didn’t want you to make a fool out of yourself,” Moira said. They were sitting as a family --sans Alexis, at the dinner table.  _

He drove onwards, the bubble of anxiety growing in his chest as he watched the gas gauge go down. The sun had already set and his mind instantly drew a picture of him getting eaten by wolves in the dark. No one would know where he was and some lone driver would find half of his body by the side of the road. 

But then.

There was a large billboard ahead and he let his foot off the gas, slowing the car down and pulling off the road. The headlights lit up the sign and David couldn’t hold back the watery laugh, letting his head fall forward, forehead digging into the steering wheel.

**_Schitt’s Creek._ **

_ It’s real?  _

*

David drove into town and pulled up to a roadside motel. He sighed at the sight of it, his lips twisted into a scowl and he considered finding a gas station instead. But it was the first business he saw and his phone had died during the drive in. The motel was creepy, with peeling paint and he looked around, expecting to see a Norman Bates type. Knife and all. 

He flipped down the visor. The skin under his eyes was puffy, his eyes swollen and red but he had no time to clean himself up. Better to be brutally murdered inside, than in a car that he didn’t own. 

He needed a gas station. With a full tank he could make it back to Toronto before dawn and be on the first flight out back to New York. But he was exhausted. He had left his parents’ house defeated and drove past the point of bone tired. Now he was sitting in one of his parents cars in the light of the flickering  _ ‘vacancy’  _ sign, willing himself to just get out of the car. 

It was late, but there was a light on and shining softly through a single window and an even brighter light radiating off two sconces that framed the door and the pathway leading to it. He wasn’t going to stay. All he needed was the nearest gas station, to fill up the tank, and then he would leave and once on the road, decide if he would stay at the first real hotel he saw, or keep driving. He turned off the car and before he could think about it, he was out and opening the door labeled  _ ‘office.’  _

No one was there. The office was empty and there were boxes littering every surface, crowding the floor with cardboard, with papers spilling out of each one. He kicked things out of the way, clearing a path to the front desk. David grimaced, noting that there were too many framed paintings of ducks on the walls. And a taxidermy racoon? Which almost stressed him out more than a man wielding a knife would have. 

“Patrick? I can’t find that tax form!” A voice called out. It was scratchy and sounded stressed and a woman followed it, stepping into the office from a door behind the counter. She was holding two beers and she stopped with wide eyes. He took in the worn flannel and jeans, both two sizes too big and if he was in a healthy headspace, he would make a comment. But not tonight. 

“Um, can I help you?” She asked and David was taken aback by her lack of hospitality, but not at all surprised, considering her general look of disdain. 

“Yes. Where is the nearest gas station?” David asked. He stood in the middle of the room, not quite at the desk yet, feet pressed together and his hands clasped in front of him. He was too tired to do anything other than stand and wait and try to not trip over a box.

“Uh, Bob’s Garage is a few blocks that way,” She pointed behind her and David furrowed his brow. 

“Which way?” He asked for clarification, not sure if she was even pointing at a road. 

“Did you pass through town on your way here?” She asked, moving both bottles to one hand and tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“No,” David replied, shaking his head.

“Go the same direction. It’s on the corner across from the cafe.”

And the conversation was done. She put the bottles on the front desk and started shuffling papers around, almost manic in her movements. There was an iPhone charger sticking out from underneath a stack of papers and David pulled on it, grateful the woman was too preoccupied to notice. It was just the chord and David threw a  _ ‘thank you’  _ to the general direction of Montecito and hoped Oprah could sense his gratitude at the appearance of a charger. 

“Mkay, thanks so much,” David called out as he walked out, shutting the door behind him. 

The door caught and he had to pull it closed, grunting with the force needed to slam it shut. 

Any hope that David had of leaving that night was squashed as he pulled up to one of the gas pumps. He got out of the car, inspecting every inch of the pump, finding no card reader. There was a sign that said “please pay inside!” And David groaned low and long because the building had been completely dark when he pulled up. 

Turning around, he confirmed that all the windows were dark and when he walked up to the door, he saw the business hours and that the garage had closed...hours ago. 

*

David got out of the car, slamming the door closed behind him. He hurried up the walkway, swatting at bugs that got a little too close. 

“Ew!” He called out when a moth flew in front of him. He faltered, but eventually got to the office. 

He opened the door, stalking into the room. There was a man on the couch, taking notes and David ignored him, stopping in front of the woman from earlier, who was currently taking a pull from her seemingly empty beer. She was sitting on the floor, a few neat piles of paper surrounding her. 

“So, did you know that the gas station was closed before you sent me there?” David asked, furrowing his brows in accusation. 

“Oh, yes. The garage closed four hours ago,” She responded and David rolled his eyes, huffing at his wasted trip. 

“You didn’t think to let me in on that?” David’s tone was sharp and he couldn’t fucking believe that after the day he had, there were still more jabs for life to take at him. 

“You didn’t ask,” She tilted her head and David scowled at her blank facial expression.

“Where’s the nearest 24 hour gas station?” He asked. But when the woman opened her mouth to respond to him, he held up his finger. “Not you.”

David turned to face the other man in the room. The man looked up when he realized how quiet it was. He raised his eyebrows, looking between David and the woman. 

“You.” David pointed at him. “Where’s the nearest gas station? That’s still open, because apparently, I need to add that modifier when asking for help.” 

The man’s eyes widened at him, just for a split second before he was smirking and standing up. He held his hand out and David eyed it warily, but returned the handshake. 

“I’m Patrick,” The man introduced himself and David eyed his straight legged jeans with distaste, hoping they were at least Levi’s, but knowing that they were Gap, maybe at worst Old Navy. At least the dark blue henley wasn’t as disturbing.

“David. David Rose,” David responded. When he let go of Patrick’s hand, he gestured towards the door. “Nearest gas station?”

“Elmdale has a 24 hour gas station. It’s 48 km away,” Patrick offered. He finished off his beer and walked past David. He rattled off directions and David just nodded, pretending to listen. His phone should be charged enough from the quick trip into town that he would be able to figure it out on his own. “They have a good snack section. I highly recommend.”

That, David appreciated. 

“Mkay, thanks so much. Best wishes,” David said as he backed out, walking into a box. He caught himself, turned and walked out. 

“Warmest regards!” The woman called after him.

He was in his car for less than a minute before he groaned and went back to the office. 

“Okay, I only have approximately 22 km left in my gas tank so I would like to book your best room for the night,” David choked out. 

If the exterior of the motel gave any indication as to what the interior looked like, David wasn’t sure that there was a ‘best room.’

Patrick was no longer in the room, but he could hear noises from the back. The woman jumped up, circling to the back of the desk.

“I have the perfect room for you,” She said as she pulled a key off of a hook behind the desk. It had a heart keychain and the look in her eye made him nervous. 

She handed him a clipboard with forms for him to fill out. He placed his black Amex onto the counter and her eyes widened at the sight. David felt a sense of pride at the moment and watched her gingerly pick up the matte card. 

“I would sit down while I filled this out, but,” David waved his hands, palms out, circling the mess.

“Well, the sooner you fill it out, the sooner you can go to your room and sit down,” She responded and David bared his teeth at her. 

But he did follow her advice and he was sorted out before Patrick had made his way out into the main room. 

“So, who will be taking my bags to my room?” David asked, not sure who he would rather have to spend more time with. Patrick seemed unassuming and the woman still hadn’t introduced herself.

“We don’t offer that service,” She simply stated. 

“Do you offer any services? Turn down? Is there a conference/office space?” He retorted.

“There are clean sheets on your bed and towels in your bathroom. Do you consider those as services?” There was that head tilt again and David was beyond frustrated. 

“Okay,” David grabbed the key off the desk and immediately went out to his car to grab his bags. 

When he entered the room, he stopped, mortified at the heart shaped bed. The room was disgusting. Even with the lights on, it was dark. It was stuffy, but there was no way he was opening the window. That was just an invitation to get murdered. 

There was a small AC unit sticking out of the wall, but he turned it on for only a second before he gagged at the smell and turned it off. He breathed deeply, taking a second to center himself. 

David walked quickly to the bathroom, turning around immediately to walk back out. Then he noticed the mirrors on the ceiling and he grabbed his bags and the key and stormed back into the office. 

This time Patrick was the only one in the room. He was standing at the desk, closing a box. Patrick looked up when David closed the door roughly, the whole door rattled on its hinges and it would have been beyond satisfying if it had broken.

“Hi, where’s that woman?” David asked and Patrick raised his eyebrows at David’s tone. 

“Stevie went home for the night,” Patrick supplied. He picked up the box and took it through the doorway David had noticed earlier. 

“Mkay, well, I booked a room for the night and there’s something wrong with it,” David complained and when Patrick came back into the office, Patrick just stared at him. “There’s a mirror on the ceiling and it makes me very uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Patrick nodded, eyes zeroing in on the keychain hanging from David’s clenched fist. 

David placed the key on the counter. 

“Uh, is there another room that’s available?” David asked. But then he saw him smirk and David lost it. “Listen, I’ve had a really long, fucking horrible day and all I want to do is go to sleep in a decent hotel and then figure out my life in the morning, after I’ve ignored it for 12 hours. But I can’t fucking do that, because I’m stuck here. And that room is dirty and dark and depressing with a heart shaped bed and a mirror on the fucking ceiling. And that lady that was in here has been fucking with me since I got here. I just need some decent customer service from you guys and then I can fucking get on with it.”

The smirk had slipped right off Patrick’s face, just a hint of empathy, and David felt just a little better, but he was still simmering with rage at the last 24 hours.

“I don’t know what fucking podunk town this is. But it’s garbage and I’m only here because the nearest gas station is fucking 48 km away. I am very unimpressed with this motel and if the circumstances weren’t so fucking extreme, I wouldn’t stay here even if the rooms were free. There is literally no other fucking option. I am disturbed by that little love room and I just want to go to sleep. And I’ll fucking buy those beers off of you,” David pointed at the two beers left in the six pack. “Those will go very well with my sleeping pill. Thank you very much.”

Patrick just stared at him, stunned. The silence stretched between them, Patrick’s face became closed off, so different than earlier with its hint of a smirk. The longer it was quiet, the worse David felt about his hissyfit. It was justified, he thought, ramping himself back up to angry. 

“Well, if you wouldn’t stay here even if the room was free, then I can make sure your card doesn’t get charged and you can sleep in your car,” Patrick held his ground and if David hadn’t spent most of the day crying and in emotional turmoil, he might have been turned on by it. 

But this man was in Gap and he didn’t fuck with that. No matter how desperate he was to feel good. 

“This,” David gestured to the sweater he was wearing. “Is Givenchy that hasn’t been shown yet, I’m not sleeping in it in the car.”

“Sounds like you don’t have any other options, and frankly, I don’t want to help you,” Patrick commented. “You may have had a shit day, but you are being very, very rude and I’m just here, trying to make a living and pay my bills. I don’t deserve to be spoken to like that by someone who obviously doesn’t understand that work is hard enough without someone berating you and your business so late at night.”

David wanted to end him, to tear him down bit by bit until Patrick was standing there, a shell of himself. But he really didn’t want to sleep in the car. 

“I don’t have any other options,” David muttered.

They were in a standoff, each on a different side of the desk and David knew he had lost. Because Patrick was standing there, strong with a no-nonsense look on his face and his fists planted on his hips. 

And he really didn’t want to sleep in the car. 

“So, you’ll deign to take one of our rooms?” Patrick’s voice was cutting and he was leaning on the desk. 

“Yes please.”

Patrick nodded, taking the keys from David and replacing them with a different key. One with a Canadian flag keychain. 

“We don’t have a liquor license so I can’t sell you the beers,” Patrick clipped and David just nodded. 

And he left, with his tail tucked between his legs. His room was on the end of the strip and he slipped in quietly. 

*

When he woke up in the morning, he was disoriented and when he looked at his phone, there were no messages from his family. He sighed, scrolling through the messages from Sebastien, texts asking about the gallery and dates to show his photographs and that was the last thing he wanted to think about. 

The gallery was done. Over. 

The tears crept up again as he faced the truth, for once. All the success he thought he had earned had been stripped away from him yesterday, and his mother had the fucking gall to tell him to sit down and finish eating. 

He rubbed at the tears on his face, lifting his hands higher, pulling at the pillow behind his head. David held it up to his face, screaming into the pillow, but quickly pulled it away once the smell of stale cigarettes made him gag. 

After a failed attempt at going back to sleep, David gave in to his desire for a shower. 

He stood in the bathroom, looking at the towels he had disposed of on the floor. Each used once and therefore, were now contaminated with his germs and the motel’s germs. He was about to strip when he realized that he had used all of them last night. There were no clean towels. He contemplated going to the office to request some in person, but it was far too early to present himself to the general public. 

David found the directory and called the front, but there was a busy tone. He finished gathering his things for his shower, calling again once everything was in a neat pile, ready and waiting. He groaned at the dial tone and changed out his slippers for his outside shoes. 

When he walked into the office, it was empty and the phone was off the hook. 

“Hello?” He called out.

There was another rustle behind the desk and Stevie popped up, holding computer wires in her hands. 

“What can I do to get you out of my office?” She asked and David stared pointedly at the phone. 

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the fact that I’ve been trying to call, but the phone was busy,” David leaned against the counter, his hands clasped and resting a top the countertop. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m in the middle of a very important phone call,” Stevie said, dropping the cables onto the floor. She picked up the phone, listened for a second and then hung up. “They hung up.”

“There was no one on the phone, was there?” David asked and Stevie shook her head, murmuring a  _ “nope.” _

“Gotta give people hope that someone’s there” Stevie explained and David just raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced. 

“Can’t soil the reputation of this motel,” David hit back and Stevie huffed a laugh. 

“Gotta get the most out of my bad habits before Patrick comes in and makes me actually work,” Stevie said and David was intrigued. 

“What’s his deal?” David asked. 

“What do you mean?” Stevie eyed him wearily, taking a moment to look David up and down with a calculated look. 

“He’s kind of an asshole,” David said and he just shrugged at Stevie’s stunned look. 

“I take it something happened between the two of you?” Stevie prompted, sitting down in the chair behind the computer. 

David just rolled his eyes. 

“It wasn’t really a thing,” He played off, but then went into the story, getting more and more animated and soon the story morphed into a version of the truth that David agreed with, but Patrick would hate. 

Stevie just stared at him and David knew she wasn’t listening. 

“Well, good thing he’s my friend and business partner and I know him and believe absolutely none of that. Wanna try again?” Stevie sassed and David’s jaw dropped, but he quickly collected himself and retold the story, much closer to the truth this time. 

“So, he’s your business partner?” David asked.

“I recently inherited the motel and I convinced him to help me manage it,” Stevie said. 

David looked around the room, the decor filling him with despair. 

“Are you taking suggestions?” David asked, because he had more than a few. 

“What can I do to get you to go back to your room?” Stevie was done and David knew he was going to be pushing his luck with his request. 

“I need more towels,” David requested and Stevie just stared at him.

“I’ll bring some to you in a bit.”

David watched her turn to the computer and open a new game of solitaire. He huffed and left the office in the same hurricane he came in as. 

45 minutes later and David was still sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for Stevie to come by with towels. He called the front desk, hoping that Stevie hadn’t taken the phone off again after he left. 

She hadn’t and David was surprised when the phone actually rang and he crossed his fingers that Stevie answered and not Patrick. 

“Hello?” A scratchy voice answered and David closed his eyes in gratitude. 

“Stevie, is there an ETA on those towels?” David said in lieu of a greeting. 

“Yeah, I’ll bring them right now.”

And then the line was dead. 

30 minutes later and David was stomping to the office, throwing the door open. He grabbed a few bills from his wallet before leaving the room, hoping that a bit of reinforcement would get him the towels sooner. 

“Do I have to ask you a third time? Is the third time a charm to get some fucking towels?” David called out as he pushed open the door. He took one step in before he stopped, taking notice of Patrick talking to someone, no Stevie in sight. 

Patrick was glaring at the intrusion and yeah, David probably deserved it. But he couldn’t focus on anything besides the man standing next to Patrick. A man with a beer belly, a flannel that David wanted to burn in a fire and what David was hoping was not a mullet under an ugly trucker hat, but probably was. 

David could feel his upper lip curling in disgust and he almost missed the shift in Patrick’s face, from simmering anger to delighted glee. 

“Roland, this is David. He’s actually staying at the motel and I think you two would get along,” Patrick introduced them, gesturing between the two men. 

“I’m Roland Schitt,” Roland held out his hand and David didn’t want to touch him, but after years of his dad drilling him about the importance of handshakes, David knew he had to. 

“David. David Rose,” David shook Roland’s hand and let go, but Roland still held onto his hand. 

“Wait.  _ The _ David Rose?” Roland said in shock, finally letting go of David’s hand to cover his mouth.

“Um,” David looked to Patrick, but Patrick was walking away. He looked back and David made eye contact with Patrick, but Patrick smirked and made his way up a staircase that David hadn’t noticed before. “I didn’t realize you were a fan of the art world?”

“Art world?” Roland laughed. “Who do you think I am? Justin Trudeau? I’m only a mayor.”

David blanched at Roland’s attitude. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. How do you know me?” David asked, his lips quirking into a frown. Because Roland wasn’t allowed to know him. No one who had the same disposition as Roland was allowed to know him. 

“Dave, don’t act like you don’t know you’re a celebrity here,” Roland was laughing and David was stepping away, hoping that a distracted Roland wouldn’t notice. 

“We’re not doing Dave.”

Roland put his hand on David’s shoulder and David shied away from the touch.

“And I need you to tell me how you know me,” David continued. 

“Well, obviously I know who the man who owns the town is. It’d be bad form for the mayor to not know,” Roland was laughing again and David was pissed. Even more so than he was when he walked in and saw Patrick. 

But wait, what?

“What do you mean? Owns the town?” David asked, shaking his head. And then he remembered it. 

For his bar mitzvah, he had asked for a nose job. Instead, his father had handed him a folder. He could barely contain his laughter and his giggles turned into real laughter when David opened the folder to read a deed to a town called “Schitt’s Creek”. David had chuckled at the name but always assumed it was fake. 

David couldn’t help but curse his parents, always doing the opposite of helping. Buying a whole town because it was funny, but in no way actually changed David’s life for the better. He loved the money, but now it was starting to feel like a band aid used to cover a bruise. 

He was a man in his 30’s with nothing  _ real _ on his resume, the inability to live life on his own and now he was the owner of a town that no one would ever move to unless they were in a dire situation. 

“You own the town. Johnny Rose co-signed for it, but your name is on the deed. Officially became 100% yours when you turned 18,” Roland explained. “Come on, Dave. You remember this.”

David just gawked at him. There were no words that David could use to express any of the hundreds of emotions he was feeling.

“Also, Dave. If you need towels, just ask. The customer service here is top notch.”

Just then Patrick was coming down the stairs, a pile of towels in his hands. They were whiter than the ones already in his room, looked fluffier and David suspected they were new and fresh out of the dryer. 

“Yeah Dave, all you gotta do is ask,” Patrick teased as he pressed the towels into David’s chest. “A simple please will go a long way.”

*

David had reluctantly followed Roland to a secondary location and now he stared down at the deed. There it was in black and white writing. His and his dad’s name. On a deed. To Schitt’s Creek. The real deal. 

“I don’t know what this means,” David shook the paper, watching it ripple. 

His fingers itched for his phone, to call his dad and ask  _ ‘what the actual fuck’  _ but no one in the Rose family had reached out yet and he refused to be the first one to. 

“It means you own the town,” Roland laughed and why was he always laughing?

“I understand that, but I don’t understand what it means to own the town,” David held the deed out, letting Roland take it back to put in the safe. 

“Well, it means you own the town. I don’t know how to make that any more clear for you.”

With that, David was done with the conversation. He walked out of town hall, ignoring Roland calling out for him.

When David got back to the motel, he went straight to the office. This time both Stevie and Patrick were in the office, standing behind the desk and looking at a laptop.

They both looked up. Stevie looked amused and Patrick looked slightly apologetic, like he knew what he did. And David just stared back at him. 

“Good afternoon, to what do we owe this pleasure?” Stevie asked. 

“I just wanted to come by and personally thank Patrick,” David said, walking slowly to join them. Patrick was chucking as David placed his fingertips on the counter. “That was the worst moment of my life. And I once got dumped while parasailing.”

Stevie furrowed her brows at him. She looked between David and Patrick, hummed in understanding and ditched the situation. 

Suddenly Stevie was the lesser of the two evils and David would gladly take the honeymoon suite if it meant he didn’t have to be around Patrick. 

“Okay, I don’t care about this conversation. I’m going to go switch the laundry.”

And then she was walking away and up those mysterious stairs as Patrick closed his laptop.

“So, what the fuck was that?” David asked, dancing his fingertips along the smooth surface. He wanted to dig his fingertips into Patrick’s chest, bring him just enough pain to wipe the smirk off his face. 

“I figured you deserved a warm welcome,” Patrick was still laughing and David was still angry. 

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” David’s hands had stilled. He was gripping onto the counter instead, steadying himself. 

“You don’t think you were being an asshole?” Patrick countered and they were at a standstill.

David’s lips pulled back in disgust and oh, if it was worth it, he would end Patrick. 

“I’m going to go get my stuff and then check out of this shit hole,” David said in response and Patrick let him leave without another word. Checked him out in relative silence, sliding his credit card back over the table with a gentle finger. 

David drove his car back to Bob’s Garage and still the building was locked. There was a note on the door that said  _ “Out of town for Gwen’s baseball game! See you tomorrow!”  _ And David wanted to scream. So he did. Because the past two days were too unfair. He banged on the door, hoping that someone would still answer, even though he knew they wouldn’t. 

There was no one there. So he stomped across the street and into the cafe. 

“Hi David,” The waitress called out to him as he approached the register. 

He stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the waitress. 

“How do you know my name?” He asked. 

“Oh, Roland was in here earlier,” She waved a hand as if that explained it, which it fucking didn’t.

“Is there a credit card reader at the gas pumps that I might’ve missed? How does that work?” He asked in frustration, ignoring her comment about Rolad.

The frustration only grew as she shook her head and David was stomping back out before she could give an audible answer. 

“Why is this happening to me?” He groaned as he drove back to the motel in shame. 

He left his bags in the car and walked quickly, just to get it over with. 

When he opened the door, Patrick was still standing there, scrolling through something on his laptop while simultaneously flipping through a stack of papers on the desk. 

“Got it!” Patrick whispered as he smiled at the screen. 

He shuffled the papers over and pulled up a stack of thin pink pages, ones David remembered receiving when he was remodeling the his gallery. Carbon copies one of the construction managers had called them. When given the choice, David always took the yellow ones. 

David cleared his throat, finally getting Patrick’s attention. Patrick’s eyes flickered up, looking through his lashes and David could see him physically tense.

“Can I help you, David?” He asked. His voice was soft, defeated. 

“Um. Bob’s out of town, apparently. And there’s no way for me to get gas, so I need the room again for another night,” David placed his credit card and license back onto the counter. 

Patrick just nodded.

David looked around, noticing a suggestion box on the coffee table. 

“Finally cracking that box open, huh?” David tried to joke, but the tone wasn’t right and Patrick just hummed along.

The silence dragged on until Patrick handed David the keys to his room, the keychain clicking against the key. 

“I would like some papers and a pen please. I have some suggestions I would like to make,” David said. He pocketed the keys.

“You know what, I have some time. Why don’t we go over some of your suggestions right now?” Patrick suggested. He pulled a pen out of his jeans pocket and David was so relieved that he didn’t pull it out of the front pocket on his button up and David watched him pull a pad of paper out from under his laptop.

“Okay, complaint number one, the people who manage the motel need to work on their attitudes and general appearance.” David listed, raising a finger. “The woman in charge looks like a frumpy vampire and the man looks like the pillsbury doughboy became a dad and neither of them are good looks for the establishment.”

Patrick just stared at David and slowly put his pen down after capping it. 

“Yeah, we’re done,” Patrick said as he nodded. 

“Okay.”

When he got to his room, he walked in on Stevie replacing the sheets. 

“Bob’s out of town,” He explained when she raised an eyebrow at him. 

“The baseball game,” Stevie acknowledged and David hummed. 

He watched her pull one of the corners on the sheet taught before he interrupted her, undid the bed and threw the sheets over a shoulder. Without a word, he took them outside, throwing them over the clothesline he had seen earlier. 

“Do you have a stick?” David asked, waving a hand in the direction of the sheets as Stevie approached him. 

“Those are clean,” She said, squinting in the sunlight. 

“Yeah, I know. But I want to beat the smell of cigarettes and depression out of them,” David replied, shaking his head in disgust. 

“Beat it out of them?” Stevie questioned.

“Yes, like in the olden days,” David supplied.

“I don’t have a stick, but you can slap the sheets really hard,” Stevie said. 

David just stared at her and mulled over that thought. He wasn’t sure if she was joking, but he assumed she was. 

“There’s a party tonight. I’m going and bringing weed. Wanna come?” Stevie asked.

There was a brief moment of consideration on David’s part, but he didn’t trust her. She was being too nice and he had no reason to believe that she wasn’t going to take him to Patrick so Patrick could murder him or abandon him in a roomful of strangers. They were both very unattractive possibilities, but David couldn’t choose which was worse.

“Oh, I’m going to pass. I don’t really feel like being the victim of a hate crime tonight,” David rsvp’d. He gave Stevie a half smile and his thanks but no thanks eyebrows.

“I always drunk order pizza,” Stevie countered. “And I’m tired of 99.9% of people in this town.”

“Mkay. Meet me in my room tonight?” David asked, making sure the sheets were secured before he began walking back to his room.

“Be ready at 8!” Stevie called after him. 

*

David stood, checking out his reflection in the full length mirror. He twisted at the strands of his hair, gaining back the volume he had lost during his nap and he looked good.

“Alright,” David smirked as he smoothed out his shirt. His leather jacket was already laid out on the bed and as he pulled it on, there was a knock on his door. 

When he opened the door, Stevie was outside, already lighting a joint. He stepped out, locking his door as she took her first pull and watched as she let the smoke fill her lungs. Everything was still and then she slowly let the smoke seep out of her mouth.

“God, I’ve been needing this,” Stevie said as she handed the joint to David. “The motel has been way too stressful.”

A familiar car pulled into the parking lot as David took a hit. It was a Schitt’s Creek car, one he had seen outside the motel plenty of times. He started coughing as Patrick exited the car and walked towards them with his laptop in his hands. David quickly handed back the joint, feeling like a teenager caught smoking pot for the first time. 

“I need to do something real quick. You guys go on ahead and I’ll see you there!” Patrick called out when he was close enough. 

Stevie nodded in acknowledgement and David couldn’t help resent Patrick for killing his buzz before he even had one. It wasn’t fair. He had had a shitty two days. All he wanted was to get drunk, maybe pick up a random. But he knew the party would be lacking his regular top shelf choices, in both alcohol and hookups, so he would have to settle for mediocre weed and a sad hand job in the shower. 

He followed Stevie as she began walking through the field next to the motel, through a clearing in some trees and into another field, where on the opposite side of the clearing, was a growing group of people. 

They each took one last hit before Stevie extinguished the joint,  _ ‘saving the good stuff for later.’  _ She said and David smiled lazily at her. All thoughts of Patrick gone as he was being introduced to too many people. It seemed like everyone under the age of 40 was there, drinking shitty beer and laughing. 

There was a fold up table set up with various bottles of hard liquor and an ice chest under it. Stevie grabbed a cup from the table and scooped into it some ice from inside of the chest and David couldn’t help but gag at the sight. He saw who was there and didn’t want to think about where their hands had been. 

“Chill. The vodka will kill any germs,” Stevie said as she poured them each a few fingers worth. 

When she handed David the cup, he stared down into the liquid, knowing how he was going to come across, but there was no way he was drinking from a $15 handle of vodka. 

“Is there at least a mixer?” David asked and Stevie just stared at him. 

“Oh, tonight is going to be fun,” She dead panned and left David standing there. He could see her starting to walk over to a tall man with some scruff and if she wasn’t touching his arm and biting her lip at him, David would’ve swooped in and grabbed him for himself. 

But he would let her have this one. 

The woman from the cafe walked up to him, greeting him and he still didn’t know her name. Not that it mattered. 

But she was asking him if he was enjoying his time in Schitt’s Creek and she stepped back at his brutal commentary about the town and its citizens. He almost felt bad, but there was no point in making nice. 

The party dragged on and he was about to call it quits when he looked up and saw Patrick walking towards the party. When he checked his phone, he noticed that it had been only half an hour since he and Stevie left the motel. He still had a few sips of his vodka and had made his way back to the drink table. His high had mostly worn off and he was contemplating calling it an early night. 

But now that Patrick was arriving, he couldn’t leave. If he walked away as Patrick was arriving, it would seem like he was leaving because Patrick was getting there. And if living his life taught him anything, it was to always save face. 

He picked up the nearest bottle once he realized Patrick was walking right to him, scrutinizing the label. 

“Didn’t peg you as a backyard party kind of person,” Patrick said as he approached. 

“Yeah, well, Stevie convinced me I wouldn’t be walking into a hate crime if I came. So, figured why not drink my problems away? Since you don’t have a liquor license.” David responded. He put the bottle down, and sipped from his cup, wincing at the lukewarm water with a hint of vodka. 

“Yet.” Patrick retorted. David watched Patrick start serving himself. He had filled his cup almost completely with ice and he looked up at David, still kneeling on the floor. Patrick had put his own cup on the ground and held out his hand. Almost on autopilot David handed Patrick his cup and then Patrick was standing up, both cups full of ice.

He pulled a can of coke out of his pocket and that’s when David noticed the worn jeans, light wash and so different than what he had been wearing the last time David talked to him. 

“Whiskey and Coke okay?” Patrick said as he picked up the bottle of whiskey. 

David just nodded and watched Patrick pour them whiskey and then split the can of coke between the two cups. 

Patrick held out a cup to him and because David had been watching meticulously, he knew that it was the new cup.

“Cheers to your last night in Schitt’s Creek. May you never come back,” Patrick smirked and David just rolled his eyes.

Patrick tapped his cup against David’s, who hadn’t moved, and took a drink.

“Gonna go enjoy the company of people who haven’t insulted me more than once,” Patrick bid his adieu and David was left at the table, regretting not leaving the party earlier. 

But he had a drink to finish. 

*

“Why you looking so glum?” Stevie asked as she came up to him, pushing at his shoulders until he moved down the log. He had sat down in the supplied seats next to the fire. Far enough that he wasn’t too warm, but close enough that he could feel the heat settling in his bones. “Go find someone to make out with or something.”

“I’m finding it hard to locate the creme of this crop, so I’m going to pass,” David gestured to the crowd of people who had grown even larger since Patrick arrived. 

“Oh, glad you’re enjoying your time,” Stevie said as she pulled out her phone. He could hear the clicking of her message being typed out and then the sound of her text sending. “Come on.”

And then she was leading him into a patch of trees. They could no longer see the party, but they could still hear everyone. 

Stevie pulled out a fresh joint, lit it up and passed it to him after she took the first two drags. 

“Couldn’t wait for me?” A voice called out. 

Patrick had just breached the wall of trees. David took a quick drag before giving the joint back to Stevie, handing it back quickly like he was a teenager and Patrick was a teacher, catching him smoking it up in the school’s bathroom. But before Stevie could bring it to her lips, Patrick was there and taking it out of her fingers. David watched his lips close around the end and take a long steady breath in, his eyes fluttering closed and David was confused. 

When he let go of the smoke, David watched it curl above Patrick’s head before the breeze blew it away. And then Patrick was taking another drag and David couldn’t keep his eyes away from Patrick’s exposed neck as he stretched and passed the joint back to Stevie. 

An explicit thought crept up the back of David’s head and he wondered if Patrick would be down to shotgun. 

But he wasn’t going to ask because he wasn’t willing to embarrass himself like that, but in another world, maybe. If he didn’t kind of hate the man. 

“God, I needed that,” Patrick sighed and David watched his body relax. It was like all the tension in his muscles released with the puff of smoke and David was jealous because even with the multiple hits earlier, all he could think was  _ these people live in a shitty town, with a shitty life, but somehow you’re fucked up more than them.  _

“You gotta take your time with the motel stuff,” Stevie chastised him.

“I got a quote back from the painters and we might be able to swing painting the outside and getting new sheets at the same time,” Patrick said. There was a triumphant smirk on his face and Stevie looked impressed. “And I think we might have the load stuff ready.”

“Inheriting the motel might not have been the worst thing to happen to me,” Stevie muttered around the joint and David laughed. 

“I’ve seen the motel and I have to disagree with you,” David couldn’t help but say. Stevie glared at him as she handed off the joint. David rolled his eyes as he breathed the smoke in, watching Patrick gear up to say something. 

“Can you put your negativity away for one night, David? You’ve done nothing but insult all of us and our livelihood. And it’s getting old,” Patrick said as he put his cup on the floor, rolled up his sleeves and for a split second David thought he might hit him, but instead Patrick took the joint back from David’s mouth. He took another drag and passed it back to David who still had smoke seeping between his lips. “Take another hit and the next thing you say, better be nice and respectful.”

Stevie just looked between them, her head whipping from side to side. 

David rolled his eyes. He took a hit, willing himself to calm down. He did have to check out tomorrow and knowing his luck, Patrick would be the one to do it and he didn’t need to completely burn the bridge before then. 

Then a phone dinged and Stevie looked down at hers, smiling widely and then she was stealing the joint, taking a hit for the road before she passed it to Patrick, and excused herself. 

“Want the last hit?” Patrick offered the joint to David, who just shook his head. Patrick held the smoke in his lungs while he dropped the roach into his cup.

“Who would’ve thought that little Mr. Button-up and Levis would be a stoner?” David quipped with one eyebrow raised. 

Patrick just blew a steady, perfect stream of smoke into David’s face and David blinked slowly against the assault. 

“That was rude,” David countered back, taking a step closer to Patrick. He was hyping himself up, trying to form words to make Patrick stutter and make that aura of cool confidence break. 

“Much like your behavior,” Patrick batted back to him and it wasn’t fair that Patrick was so good at that. Each shot David hit him, Patrick volleyed back and he needed to get an upper hand. 

“I think I might hate you,” David said.  _ And god, he hoped he struck gold with that.  _

But Patrick just blinked back at him. That smirk curved into a full fledged smile and David was scared. Because he was either going to say something he would regret or he was going to do something he would regret. 

This was either them burning the bridge together or some of the best foreplay he had ever had. His skin was burning and then Patrick was closer, his eyes slowly moving between David’s eyes and lips. 

“David, you don’t even know me,” Patrick whispered in the space between them and that was it. Patrick’s words were hard and David’s resolve was weak. 

David pulled him into a bruising kiss, one hand clamped around Patrick’s bicep and the other gripping the back of Patrick’s neck, his thumb nudging the edge of Patrick’s jaw, tilting his head up. 

There was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him that he had crossed the line and to  _ STOP!  _

But Patrick was gripping the lapels on David’s leather jacket as hard as David was gripping onto him and there was no way he would stop. Not as long as Patrick was kissing him back. 

Which he was. And when Patrick pulled away, David had whimpered and chased his lips. Patrick just chuckled and bit at them, licking the indentations from his teeth and then kissing over them. 

David was being moved back and it clicked in his mind that Patrick was moving him, pushing him and he knew he would be backed up into a tree. With his second to last brain cell, he flipped them around. 

His favorite leather jacket was not about to be ruined by tree bark and David didn’t care about Patrick’s black pullover. 

When Patrick’s back hit the tree, he broke the kiss, tilting his head back to moan and David trailed his lips down and bit gently at the skin, pulling slightly and sucking and then Patrick’s hand was in David’s hair, fingers threading through the strands and then he pulled. Hard. And when David keened in response, his teeth detaching from Patrick’s neck, Patrick chuckled and David snapped.

He pressed a finger against the bruise forming on Patrick’s neck and Patrick immediately let go of David’s hair, stunned at the move. 

David pulled at Patrick’s hips, bringing their bodies flush together. 

“Fuck,” Patrick whispered, moaning as David’s hand moved, grabbing onto Patrick’s ass and rutting against him. 

David just smirked. Patrick was jelly underneath his hands and he fully planned on leaving him high and dry. Just enough teasing to make his knees weak and leave David walking away with a win under his belt and his anger carrying him through the rest of the night and into tomorrow when he faced his family again.

“Listen, I would. But when I turned 30, I promised myself I’d stop fucking straight men,” David said with a smirk and a final rut against Patrick’s hardening cock. 

“Well, good thing I’m gay,” Patrick breathed between them. 

“Mmm, nice try,” David smirked as he kissed Patrick softly, just a teasing goodbye. 

“I really am,” Patrick said more clearly, the desperate energy still crackled between them. 

David’s mouth ran dry at the sight of Patrick’s chest heaving in front of him and the blush across his cheeks and down his neck. That same voice from earlier was chanting  _ why not  _ over and over again. 

“Do you bottom?” David challenged him and Patrick didn’t look away from David’s eyes. 

“Yes.”

“Fuck. Okay,” David nodded as he took another step back. He shook out his hands, trying to gain control of his extremities and the situation. Patrick had thrown him for a loop. But a Rose always got back up. 

“Do you want to fuck me, David?” Patrick teased as Patrick took a step forward to cancel out David’s previous step.

“Maybe,” David feigned nonchalance. 

“You want to show me how much you hate me?” Patrick kept walking, passing by David. He bent down to pick up his cup. 

“I want to fuck that attitude out of you,” David forced his feet to move. The desire coursing through his veins made his muscles spasm. 

Patrick just hummed at him, making his way back how he came. 

“Let’s go, David.”

David followed him through the trees, past the dwindling party and back to the motel. Patrick walked right past David’s door and David stopped.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He called out. 

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right,” Patrick responded as he unlocked the door to the office. 

If Patrick wanted to get fucked against that desk, David was not going to say no. 

But when David approached the door, Patrick met him in the doorway, pushing on his chest to back him up and walked out and David shook his head at the keychain in Patrick’s hands. But David followed him into the honeymoon suite. 

“I refuse to fuck in here,” David said as he closed the door behind him. 

Patrick huffed out a laugh as he pulled his sweater up and over his head. He kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his jeans. 

“You don’t want to fuck me?” Patrick asked as he slowly pushed down his jeans and briefs.

“Where did you get this fucking attitude from?” David said instead. 

But he was at Patrick’s feet in an instant, kneeling and helping Patrick out of his clothes. 

“It started when some guy came in and insulted my business. Told me he’d rather sleep in his car than my perfectly fine motel,” Patrick said as David stood back up. “I’m usually a polite, stand-up guy.”

David watched Patrick stroke himself gently before turning and crawling onto the bed, ass up. 

“Are you going to fuck me, David?” Patrick gasped out and over his shoulder and David knew he was still touching himself. 

“Fuck. Yes. I just gotta get something from my room real quick,” David said as he began to walk to the door. 

But he stopped as Patrick got off the bed and watched him fish his phone out of his jeans pocket. 

“If you’re not back in one minute, I’m going to finish myself off,” Patrick threatened and David watched him set a timer, but he was moving before Patrick could hit start. 

David ran back to his room, flinging the door open and digging the travel sized bottle of lube and condom he always kept in his travel bag. And before he closed the door, he abandoned his dignity in one of the dark corners. 

When David returned, Patrick was still roughly in the same position. This time, his arms were folded and his forehead rested on them. He was still, didn’t even move as David closed the door behind him. 

The timer went off as David sat on the end of the bed. 

“Come take off my shoes, Patrick,” David ordered, propping himself back on his hands.

Patrick moved slowly, sliding off the bed to squat at David’s feet. 

“Sit down,” David said, pushing at Patrick’s knee with his shoed foot. Patrick didn’t budge. “Thought you loved your perfectly fine motel. But you won’t sit on the floor? Why, Patrick?”

David was goading him, but Patrick just smirked up at him. 

“I’m not going to let you demean me. Not before you put your dick in me, at least,” Patrick shrugged and David felt his skin prickle. 

_ That cocky bastard knows what he’s doing. _

And David wasn’t going to push it. Not tonight. 

So he propped a foot on one of Patrick’s knees and Patrick pulled at his laces. He pulled the shoe and sock off, and David replaced his bare foot with the other. Patrick just watched his face up and through his lashes and David could feel himself slipping from reality. 

David hurriedly stripped off his clothes, standing up to drop his pants and Patrick was on him instantly, his hands running up the length of David’s body, his face nuzzling against David’s cock and it was a touch too sweet for David, who still wanted to hold onto that rage. 

Because if he let it go, then it was just him and his disappointments. 

David pulled Patrick up into a kiss, hard and without too much movement. And then he was pushing him off and then manhandling him onto the bed. 

“Don’t fucking kiss me anymore,” David said as he pushed Patrick’s legs into the same position as earlier. 

Patrick just moaned in response as David pushed a lubed finger into him. 

“You look so much better with your disaster of denim jeans on the floor,” David teased as he ran his free hand down Patrick’s back and over his ass. 

“They were on sale and can you stop insulting me?” Patrick responded and David slapped Patrick’s ass. 

“Depends on how you fuck,” David rasped out before switching to two fingers. 

Patrick just groaned underneath David, opening up quickly for him. 

“This okay?” David asked as he switched to three fingers, fucking and scissoring Patrick open.    


“Yes,” Patrick gasped as he began to move with David, rocking his hips back with every thrust. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

David pulled out his fingers at Patrick’s demand, chucking as Patrick’s ass followed his fingers, desperate to not break contact. 

“God, Patrick, if only you could look at yourself. So open for me,” David whispered, almost too caught up in the image to get the condom wrapper open in one fail swoop. 

“Will you stop talking and just fuck me already?” Patrick whined as David pushed at Patrick’s knees to widen his stance. 

And then Patrick gasped and moaned long and deep as David pushed into him. 

“Fuck Patrick. You’re annoying but your ass is so tight,” David stilled as his hips met Patrick’s ass. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me,” Patrick chanted underneath him. 

So David began to move, gaining speed and depth as he fucked into Patrick, hands going to grip Patrick’s hips and keep him in place as Patrick morphed into a boneless figure. 

“Say something mean,” David pleaded as one of Patrick’s arms swung out and back and his fingers dug into David’s thigh. 

“Say please,” Patrick grunted out. 

“Fuck, no,” David gasped as he fucked into Patrick harder. He pulled back and before he could fuck back in, Patrick was moving forward, sliding completely off of him. 

“Say please,” Patrick said. He looked back over his shoulder and David gasped at the flush peppering Patrick’s cheeks, his swollen, bitten lips and at the thought that he wanted to fuck Patrick’s face. 

“Please,” David breathed out and Patrick moved back and David fucked back into him.

“You’ve been such an asshole your whole trip. Need you to fuck me harder to make this worth it,” Patrick said, tumbling over his words. 

David just pulled out, pushing and pulling at Patrick’s body until he was on his back, legs hitched up high on David’s hips. 

“Watch yourself come,” David had never thought he would ever tell someone that and find it beyond hot. But Patrick whimpered in response, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling and that did something to David. 

And then Patrick laughed, a breathless laugh that had David scowling back at him. 

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” David snapped and dug his nails into the skin of Patrick’s hips. Patrick grunted at the pain. 

“I’m pretty high,” Patrick responded through a gasp as David dragged his nails down and into Patrick’s pale skin. 

“Oh, my God.”

David pushed back into him in one rough motion and Patrick threw his head back against the pillow. Which David just snatched away and shoved underneath Patrick’s hips. 

“Take my cock,” David gasped out, moaning as Patrick clenched himself around David’s dick. 

But then Patrick shoved 3 fingers into David’s mouth. 

“I need you to shut up so I can come.”

Which only spurred David on even more. His hands slid around and under Patrick’s thighs, hitching them even higher, dangerously close to David’s shoulders and Patrick moaned at the stretch, his eyes unfocused and switching between the mirror above them and David’s face. 

Patrick’s fingers were thick and David could barely swallow around them. He wanted to bite down on them but he wasn’t sure if Patrick would be into it. But then Patrick’s other hand was gripping onto David’s shoulder, fingernails digging into David’s skin. So he bit down lightly, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin. 

Patrick started babbling, words spilling out of his mouth, begging David to fuck him harder, faster, deeper. Saliva was pooling between Patrick’s fingers, dripping down his wrist and David’s chin. 

He was constantly striking that spot within Patrick and Patrick was panting, tugging at his own dick with his free hand and whining, not even close to the capability of more than one syllable. His body tensed and then he was coming, pulling his fingers out of David’s mouth to tug sharply at David’s hair and David followed him with his own orgasm, collapsing on Patrick as they both rode it out. 

“That wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done,” David muttered as he rolled off of Patrick, keeping a neutral amount of space between them. 

“Thanks for that sentiment.” 

*

The next morning, David woke up in the bed in his room alone, showered and checked out of the motel and  _ finally _ filled up his gas tank at Bob’s Garage. Patrick was nowhere to be found.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David goes back to Schitt's Creek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello friends. please enjoy chapter 2 on this sunday (how tf is it sunday) evening!   
> as usual, TINN, i owe you so so much.   
> much love to all my rosebuddies who are always there to give me hair pats and slaps on the face when i need them.

A whole year quickly passed since David was in Schitt’s Creek. The days had been long, but each week seemed to fly as the months ticked on. He had spent time in New York, trying to think of ways to re-establish himself, but he hadn’t stayed long. Not when all his accomplishments in the city were tainted with his parent’s money, by their lack of faith in him. 

New York was ruined for him. 

So he had spent some time in Japan. Then Italy and Paris. There was a brief stint in Portugal where he sat on the coast eating pastries and drinking more espresso than was good for him. But each country left him more and more lost. 

He had spent days in bed, multiple in each city he spent time in and countless in LA--trying to make sense of his finances, what he could do with what. But each number in his bank account was there because of his parents and he didn’t know how to branch out. He couldn’t. There had been instagram ads, but even those were because of the fame he had inherited from his parents. None of the money he made was his own and for a second, he had wished his parents hadn’t coddled him as much as they did. 

And now he was in Toronto, visiting with his parents. The same place he was in exactly a year ago, this time with Alexis. His parents had encouraged them to come for a visit, mentioning gifts from a shoot that his mother did for  _ Vogue _ at the end of the weekend and admittedly, David and Alexis had come running, their claws out and itching for designer goods. 

Their first night back together as a family had been awkward. Alexis’ phone was constantly buzzing, and with each one, her phone lit up with another WhatsApp notification. Which she promptly responded to. His father had spent most of the time in the office, coming back to the table once his phone calls were done. His mother had spent the entire time talking at David about an upcoming banquet and the fitting she had with a designer that morning, while David stared at his plate and waited for dessert to be served. 

After dinner, David went straight to bed, crawling under the sheets with his phone, its charger and a glass of water on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling until he finally, finally fell asleep.

*

David had just finished putting the finishing touches on his hair, almost ready for brunch with Alexis, when he heard footsteps running down the hallway and his mother shrieking. Which didn’t faze him, but then one of the maids was swinging his door open and telling him that _revenue_ was there, which he didn’t understand and that he had 15 minutes to grab all of the things he wanted to keep and he didn’t believe her. 

A man followed her in, wearing a crisp suit, introduced himself and laid out the rules and David panicked. 

“All of my clothes need to go in the suitcases!” David yelled as Constance began to pull his sweaters down from his closet while he began a huge sweep of his ensuite. 

There was so much yelling that David couldn’t think, he just packed everything and anything. He pointed Constance to different items and they dragged the full bags down the stairs when his room was empty. 

David ran for the jewelry, guessing that his mother was busy with her wigs, since she hadn’t stopped shrieking names in fragmented sobs and there would be more than enough valuable items left for him to choose from. He had pearls in his hands when they started carrying out the furniture and he couldn’t help but yell at the men because  _ they were ruining his life.  _

And after the whole ordeal, they sat down on the one remaining sofa, with a lawyer in front of them. The man handed his dad a folder and said something about one remaining asset and David’s heart dropped, hoping against all odds that it wasn’t--

“Schitt’s Creek.”

David stared at the lawyer, feeling himself dissociate as Alexis groaned in disgust. His dad was saying something, his mother was protesting and he heard the phrase  _ ‘you can live there for next to nothing while you get back on your feet.’  _

He was going back to Schitt’s Creek. The land named after Roland’s family, where their town sign looked like a woman was getting fucked in the ass. 

The town where he had the best sex of his life, and where inevitably, he’d have to face Patrick. 

His dad is talking to the lawyer about the worth of the town, but David was still floating on the ceiling. He slowly came back to reality when the lawyer stood and then David was outside, a bus voucher gripped in his fingers. 

He kept his eyes closed and earphones in throughout the whole drive, even after his phone died. He needed to keep an extra layer between him and the rest of the passengers. There were four kids too many aboard and one person kept sneezing wet sneezes and another person  _ scream sneezed  _ which was never appropriate.

After what felt like a lifetime, there was a tap on his shoulder and he opened his eyes to the setting sun and the rapidly approaching town sign. 

“What is that?!” Alexis cried out as she watched the sign pass in horror. She tapped violently at her phone as the sign passed.

He closed his eyes and the next time he opened them, they were parked in front of the motel, which looked different. The structure looked the same but the paint looked new, shiny and the bushes in front of all the rooms looked different, there were more flowers dispersed throughout the flowerbeds. Even the lawn looked greener and David was, for lack of a better word, impressed. Not impressed by the motel, but by the transformation. At least something had changed for the better in the past year. 

Stevie was already standing outside, waiting for them. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she smirked as she watched David get off the bus. He just shook his head at her, glaring and threatening her to  _ not say a word.  _

“Welcome home, David,” Stevie called out and David groaned as each member in his family stopped to turn to him. 

“Do you know her, David?” Alexis asked in horror. She had finally looked up from her phone and was staring at the motel. David noticed the quiver in her lip and the fact that she was slowly moving, her heels sinking into the grass. 

“Unfortunately,” David responded, crossing his arms in front of his chest, challenging Stevie to say something else, but his Dad was ordering him around and Alexis wasn’t helping unload the cabin of the bus. 

Boxes littered half the yard and David wanted to die in shame anytime one of the motel guests left their room, rubbernecking as they walked past, eyeing Alexis warily as she sat perched on a suitcase. 

So, David just stood and waited for his parents to come back out of the office. For the ground to swallow him whole. For what, he wasn’t sure. But there was nothing to do but wait. 

The room was not as bad as he remembered, a small miracle embedded in a shitty day, but Roland wouldn’t  _ leave them alone  _ and Stevie wouldn’t give him towels and he  _ hated  _ everything that was happening. 

And he hadn’t seen Patrick yet, which meant that he was bound to run into him at any moment and David hated being unprepared. Usually he was always prepared to run into an ex, New York was full of them, but he was a little too shook up at the moment to feel comfortable navigating that social situation.

He could hear Roland speaking loudly, right inside the doorway that joined his room to his parents and Alexis was babbling on the phone in a harsh whisper and he did not want to get involved with whatever was going on with her, not when her eyes were narrowed slits and she was stabbing a finger into the desk as she emphasized her point. Instead he slipped out the door. 

The sky was clear and a calm shade of blue and David was  _ pissed.  _ How was the world still spinning perfectly, right on its axis as if nothing had happened, when  _ David  _ had been kicked off his own axis, flailing in the void as he tried to make purchase and hold himself steady.

He took a deep breath and walked the path to the office. Something bad was bound to happen, but the likelihood of it being worse than what was happening in their rooms right now, was slim and he’d put the last two cents attached to his name on that. He gripped the doorknob, the metal sun-warmed against his skin and turned it, swinging the door open before he could stop himself. 

“I’m a little too busy to get you towels right now,” Stevie said with wide eyes as she held up her book.  _ Murder Abroad  _ had a large plane on the cover and David grimaced at the cartoonish colors that clashed with the realistic drawing. 

“I can see that,” David batted back. He stopped in front of the desk, his hands clasped on top of the wood. He opened his mouth, but closed it quickly when he realized he wasn’t sure what he  _ wanted  _ to ask. Stevie tilted her head at him. “Where can I find booze to buy?”

Stevie frowned at him. 

“Are you sure you can afford that?” She asked, her voice even and David blinked,  _ hard.  _ He took a deep breath and nodded. 

“Probably not actually,” David backed away from the desk. “So, scratch that request. But the towel request is still on the table.”

Stevie stared at him as he backed his way back to the door. 

“Enjoy  _ that _ ,” David waved a finger at the book she was still holding. He opened the door. “Best wishes.”

He closed the door before Stevie could respond. 

*

David opened his toiletries bag. He picked up each product and lined them up on one of the shelves of the medicine cabinet, labels out. He ran out of space. He stared at the jar in his hand, the lacquered white of the plastic was dull in the shitty light. He dropped it back into his bag, grabbed a towel that he draped over the side of the tub and sat down. He brought it up to his face and screamed into it. 

This was fucked. 

He hated this. 

He had always figured his biggest fear was dying alone, but it should’ve been losing his money. He could feel himself tipping over into a spiral and  _ fuck  _ he hated this. He wanted to shower, to cleanse his skin of the grease and grime of the day and then go to sleep; where he could pretend like none of this had happened.

There was a faint knock and he got up slowly. The knock happened again, this time it was louder as David opened the door to the bathroom. It was probably Alexis, locked out already after she left the room in a huff earlier, cell phone glued to her ear. 

Instead, Stevie was standing on his doorstep. 

“Let’s go. We’re going to a bar, where I will buy you two drinks and you can drown your sorrows. But don’t bring up losing your money after tonight,” Stevie said. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. David opened his mouth. “This is the only act of kindness I will ever do for you, so don’t get used to it.”

David nodded. 

“Just let me grab my jacket.”

*

The Wobbly Elm was just as distasteful as the rest of Schitt’s Creek. It was old and falling apart on the outside, dim and grungy on the inside and dive bars had NEVER been David’s thing. The beer bottle he was holding was sweating in his hands and David fought the urge to pick at the label. 

They were sitting in silence, Stevie had already finished her first beer and quickly moved onto her second. David sipped at his beer. Whatever motivation he had to drink the bar dry had disappeared once he realized,  _ this was his life.  _ For the time being at least. 

“So you and Patrick fucked,” Stevie said and David choked on his beer, the liquid harsh in his throat as he coughed. 

“He told you,” David responded. He chugged the rest of his beer, the empty bottle was significantly lighter in his hands and Stevie motioned for the bartender to give him another beer. 

“I mean, yeah. We’re friends,” Stevie shrugged. 

“He’s an asshole,” David commented. 

“Yeah,” Stevie responded. “So are you, though.”

David pursed his lips as the bartender slid an opened beer to him. 

“I don’t like him,” David said. He tried to muster up his hatred for him, but he was  _ tired.  _ He could hate him tomorrow, but today, he was exhausted. 

“He said the same thing about you,” Stevie shrugged. 

“Glad the feeling is mutual,” David said. 

The silence was back. David took a deep swig from the bottle as his body started to finally relax. He stared at the bottles of alcohol behind the bar as he worked to commit the brands to memory. He was startled by something tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. 

Stevie smirked at him, her finger wiped at the leather of his jacket. 

“Sorry, you just had something on your jacket,” She explained. 

“Ew!” David squealed as he lifted his arm off the bar. 

*

**_Stevie:_ **

_ Your boyfriend just got here _

**_David:_ **

_ Who??? _

**_Stevie:_ **

_ He’s asking about you _

_ Should I direct him back to your room? _

_ Wait, no come up here. I wanna see this _

David was in meltdown mode. Five minutes had passed since Stevie’s last text and David had already gone to the bathroom twice and washed his face once. He didn’t know who she was talking about, but he needed to go and take care of whatever was happening. It could be anyone, could be nothing. 

He had just stepped outside of his room and pulled the door closed when he noticed Patrick’s car in the parking lot, he recognized the silver Toyota Camry with a dent above the passenger tire from the night of the party. David froze, his fingers clenching around his cellphone. He brought his fist to his forehead, pushing his knuckles into the skin, hard. Patrick wasn’t the worst mistake he’d ever made. It wasn’t even a mistake. But up until a few days ago, he always had something hard and tangible to fall back on, something to show  _ ‘hey, yeah what we did was embarrassing and a mistake, but you meant nothing to me to begin with and my money keeps me warm at night. I don’t need you.’ _

But now he had nothing, just a hurt pride and self loathing. So he stepped back into his room, pulled off his shoes and climbed into bed. Again. Where he had been since he got to  _ Schitt’s Creek _ . The second time. 

His phone dinged, multiple times and David ignored it because he knew it was Stevie. He didn’t need to look to know for sure, because she was the only person who had contacted him within the last 36 hours. That was since the last text she sent. The time before that was just as pitiful. 

He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to fall into a deep sleep so that Alexis wouldn’t wake him when she came back in. But there was a knock on the door and David wanted to ignore it, but they knocked again with more force and David got up, running his fingers through his hair lightly, but nothing seemed to be out of place. 

David didn’t know who he was expecting. Probably Stevie. But Patrick was on the other side of the door, a pile of towels in his arms. 

“Hi,” Patrick breathed and David gripped harder onto the doorknob. 

“Hi,” David responded. 

“Your mom came by asking for towels, so I figured you would want some too,” Patrick said. He held out the pile, his eyes hard on David. They softened as David’s lips quirked at the sentiment. David tilted his head back and blinked back the tears that had sprung to the back of his eyes. 

David nodded as he took the towels out of Patrick’s extended arms. 

“Thank you,” David murmured. He forced out a laugh. “I’ve been asking Stevie for some, but you have a much faster turnover time than she does.”

Patrick chuckled and they both just stood there, unsure how to continue. In the light of day and after some very pathetic self loathing and reflection, he wasn’t sure if he hated Patrick as much as he thought he did. The memory of him was a little fuzzy, clouded by the pure hurt and agony from the days before.

And now Patrick came knocking with an armful of towels and  _ okay,  _ maybe he wasn’t so bad. At least Patrick did that. His actual friends had abandoned him.

“Can I come in?” Patrick asked, finally making eye contact. “I feel like we should talk? Kind of clear the air.”

“Oh, we don’t have to,” David tried to wave off the sentiment, but Patrick was shaking his head at him. 

“I think we should. You live here now. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” Patrick pressed and David consented. 

He stepped out of the way, letting Patrick into the room as he dropped the towels onto the bed. But as soon as Patrick was in, his mother was throwing open the door separating their rooms. She was shrieking, but as soon as she saw Patrick, she stopped. 

“Oh, David. Having visitors already?” She asked and David groaned.

“Nope. Let’s go,” David cut in, pushing Patrick to the door. “We can talk outside.”

They sat down at the picnic table, facing the parking lot so David could be on the lookout for eavesdropping members of his family. 

“Okay, so you have to be the one to start off this conversation since this was your idea,” David said as he gestured between them. 

Patrick hummed, nodding his head. It tore David up inside, waiting for Patrick to talk, but before his anxiety could completely consume him, Patrick cleared his throat. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot last time,” Patrick started. He wrung his fingers together and David watched the skin fold and twist. “It might be in our best interests if we just start over.”

David grimaced as he mulled over the thought. 

“Okay,” David muttered. The table was hard underneath him, but it was kind of nice. It grounded him, kept him tethered to the moment, unable to float away like he wanted to when pushed out of his depth. He knew how to burn bridges, but had never had to rebuild one.

“Clean slate,” Patrick confirmed. 

“Okay,” David breathed. Clean slate, he could do that. He could table his hatred for the time being, as long as Patrick stayed on his best behavior. “I guess it might be nice to keep my enemies list to just Roland. Especially since...” David waved a hand at the motel and Patrick chuckled. 

“Trust me, Roland is on everyone’s enemy list,” Patrick joked and  _ okay,  _ maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. Not great. But okay was fine enough in David’s current situation. He’d have to settle, just this once. 

A car pulled into the parking lot and they both turned to watch it as the tires crunched over the gravel.

“I should go. Today is Stevie’s day off, so I’m here alone,” Patrick said as he got up, nodding towards the parking lot where a family was walking up to the front office. “Can we talk later?”

“We can talk whenever,” David responded. He figured he should at least  _ try.  _ If Patrick could try, then he could try. 

Patrick raised his eyebrows and David shook his head. 

“Just preferably not before 10, because I don’t do mornings,” David amended. “Actually, let’s say 11.”

“Okay, David,” Patrick chuckled as he began to walk away, his head dipped and hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

David watched him move across the grass and down the sidewalk stretched out alongside the rooms. He stayed outside until the sunshine and silence was too much and he had to retreat to the safety of his room. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, his legs crossed at the ankle as he dragged a pen along the edge of his journal. He worried a groove into the thick page as he contemplated what he wanted to sketch out. The blank page was staring at him, mocking him as his brain circled around the thought of a potential  _ not-enemy-ship  _ with Patrick, until his mother walked into his room, announcing that it was time to perambulate to the cafe. 

David followed his family, his steps slow and unmotivated. His mother was retelling a story about something Jocelyn said to her and he couldn’t bring himself to care about whatever had happened between them. 

Dinner was uneventful. 

The walk back was uneventful. 

David climbed into bed early. 

Life fucking  _ sucked.  _

*

David stared at his reflection, his skin pink from the too-hot water of his shower. His pores were clogged and he poked at his face as he shifted it from side to side. He’s looked worse, after coke binges that kept him awake for days. But somehow David  _ feels  _ worse. He feels worse about himself; emotionally and physically. He feels self aware in a way that makes him feel raw. He can’t lie to himself anymore or hide the worst corners of his life from himself. 

He opened the medicine cabinet to pull out his favorite mask and frowned as he realized how little was left in the pot. 

_ Fucking Alexis.  _

He sighed as he scooped out a finger full. He focused on the movements of his hands as he spread it over his skin, careful to glide it over his face rather than tug with quick, anxiety fueled movements. 

David walked back into his bedroom to pull his phone off the charger. He pulled up the website he usually ordered from and poked around until he had the mask in his cart. He took a deep breath and entered one of his credit card numbers. 

_ Declined.  _

He steeled his nerves and entered another one. 

_ Declined.  _

“Third time’s the charm,” He muttered. 

_ Thank you for your order. You’ll be sent a confirmation email shortly.  _

“Thank fuck,” David breathed in relief. At least something was going right. Maybe this wasn’t so bad? 

Except it was bad. A week later, he had the new jar in his hands, the empty box on the table and his dad was staring at him, wide eyed. 

“One of my credit cards still works,” David shrugged. 

“David, you can’t order stuff anymore,” His dad was shrieking, his voice was loud and David cowered back. “We can’t afford that!”

“It’s fine, it’s on the credit card,” David threw his hands in the air. He didn’t have the time or energy to explain this to his dad. Instead he opened the jar and breathed in it’s familiar scent. 

“How are we supposed to pay for it?!” His dad’s eyebrows were doing that thing where they wiggled with disappointment and David was beyond confused. 

“It’s fine!” David waved his hands in the air, mindful of the open jar. 

“It’s not fine!” 

David grunted at his dad, his chin out in defiance. 

“Calm down,” David put the lid on the jar. “It’s fine.”

“You have to return it!” His dad covered his face as he turned to walk back into his own room. “David, I’m serious!”

“Yeah, okay,” David threw his head back in frustration. He wouldn’t be returning it. 

He moved to put the jar in the bathroom and then grabbed the empty cardboard box. The box needed to go in the trashcan in the office because theirs was full and he needed some space from his dad _.  _

When he entered the office, Patrick was standing behind the counter, tapping at his laptop. The  _ tip tap  _ of the keys filled the air as David shoved the box into the courtesy trash can by the door. He turned to walk out of the office, but stopped at the last second. Instead he sauntered to the counter. 

He waited until Patrick shut his laptop and looked up at him.

“Hey David,” Patrick greeted him. 

“Are you busy?” David asked. Patrick furrowed his brows in response. 

“No,” Patrick patted his laptop. “Just working on some budget stuff. Why? What’s up?”

David pressed his palms flat against the top of the counter as he tried to form his words. 

“Um, I have a question and I think it might be a dumb question? So I need you to not judge me when I ask you,” David said in a rush. 

“Okay,” Patrick pushed his laptop to the side as he leaned in just a little bit closer to David. 

David took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. 

“How do credit cards work?” David said through gritted teeth. Patrick’s eyes widened at the question. David instantly regretted the question, but before he could backtrack and try to convince Patrick that he was just kidding about the whole  _ credit card  _ thing, Patrick’s eyes had softened and he opened his mouth. 

“They’re kind of like mini loans? You’re buying things on credit. So, when you buy things on credit cards, the company you have the card through technically buys it for you and then you have to pay them back. Usually with interest. So you still have to pay for it, but you’re paying the credit card company and not the store from which you bought it,” Patrick explained, his voice steady. 

“Okay,” David said and  _ that’s  _ why his dad freaked out over it. “Okay.”

David nodded as he mulled it over. 

“Any more questions?” Patrick asked, his voice soft. 

“Uh, no actually,” David cleared his throat as he backed away from the counter. “That was it.”

David turned to walk out of the office, stooping to pull the box out of the trash can on his way out. 

*

His dad was going on a rant about how David needed to  _ get a job.  _ Which, David had a hard time disagreeing with, but he really didn’t want to. 

Stevie wasn’t helpful, but he did have an interview for a  _ bag boy  _ position at a grocery store, which, even though he really didn’t want to do it, was better than not having quality skin care, so he was just going to have to live with it.

The job didn’t last long. 

How could it? But at least this time, it technically wasn’t his fault. 

“He just kept calling!” David cried out as he paced the length of the office. “He spent years being the reason why I was successful, and now he’s the reason why I can’t be successful.”

Stevie hummed along, her eyes trained on her computer screen. 

“Yeah, that’s rough,” Stevie muttered. David narrowed his eyes at her. 

“You’re not listening,” David stated. 

“I’m working,” Stevie rebutted. 

David walked around the desk. 

“You’re playing solitaire!” David shrieked. 

“Yeah, I’m really busy,” Stevie said, her eyes never leaving the screen as she dragged cards around. 

David huffed as he crossed the small room to drop onto the couch. He propped his feet up on the coffee table as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

The door opened and Patrick stepped through, a dark brown leather bag hanging from his shoulder. 

“What’s happening in here?” Patrick asked as he walked across the room. 

“David got a job today,” Stevie said. Patrick put his bag on the counter. 

“Congratulations, man,” Patrick said as he smiled at David. 

“David also got fired today,” Stevie continued and David rolled his eyes at her. Patrick’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. 

“Oh,” Patrick paused. “Okay.”

Stevie got up, stooped down and then re-emerged with her own bag. 

“My shift is done,” Stevie said as she headed for the door 

“Great, I’ll come with,” David said as he stood up. 

“Nope. I’m going to go get my needs met by a man who really appreciates my body,” Stevie said with a head tilt. “So you’re staying here. Maybe you can appreciate Patrick’s body since it’s been a while.”

David sat back down with a pout.

“Well then,” he muttered. Patrick laughed. David fixed him with a glare that didn’t stop his laughter, but considerably lowered the volume of it. 

The door swung shut behind Stevie, leaving David and Patrick alone. 

“My dad kept calling the store,” David said in a way of explanation. 

“Ah,” Patrick unpacked his bag. “Yeah, that generally doesn’t bode well at a job.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” David said with a nod. Patrick chuckled.

The space between them was awkward, but David wasn’t sure how to fill it. What do you say to someone you hated and then hate fucked and then decided to no longer hate?

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Patrick said. 

David didn’t like the sincerity. 

“Eh,” David shrugged. 

It was quiet again and Patrick was still looking at him. David hated it. David shrugged in lieu of the words he didn’t have. 

“We’ll sell the town soon and then I’ll go back to New York, that’ll be the easiest place to rebuild my life, and I won’t have to worry about any of this again,” David rambled. 

“Yeah,” Patrick nodded as he twisted a pen along his fingertips. 

David got up. He knew when a conversation was done. 

“Let me take you out for drinks tonight. Think of it as half a congratulations for getting a job and half I’m sorry for your loss,” Patrick said. David paused, not sure what to make of the offer. 

“You really don’t have to,” David shook his head.

“No, I want to.”

David eyed Patrick.

“Who’s to say that I personally don’t need a night of drinking?” Patrick shrugged. He laid out the contents of his bag, lining them up along the cleared out desk. 

“Okay,” David whispered. 

“I’ll see you tonight?” Patrick asked. “I can pick you up.”

David nodded slowly as he made his way to the door. He pulled his phone out as soon as he was safe on the sidewalk. 

_ Are you free tonight?  _ He texted Stevie. He heard a noise on the other side of the door behind him and he froze before he scurried back to his room. 

What did he wear on an outing with someone that he used to  _ fucking hate  _ but is now on his not-so-shit list? That he also fucked once. And who he still finds beyond insufferable at times, but has treated him better after the  _ Eli incident _ than anyone else has. 

_ Busy. Already told Patrick that.  _

David groaned at her response as he opened the door to his room. He threw his phone onto the bed with a huff. He wanted his black Alexander Wang sweater with the zippers. And that one white button up, the one that fit him perfectly and was thin so it could be worn under a pullover. He liked the way the fabric laid on him, like pitch-black water cascading over his shoulders and down his arm. He liked the confidence it gave him, how he looked strong and put together in it. 

Most of his clothes were still in suitcases or boxes and he had no idea which one to look at first. He hadn’t had the space to organize his clothes into designers and seasons.

He was putting the final touches on his hair when the door to his room opened. 

“Um, David. You look nice,” Alexis said as she stopped right inside the door. She flipped a strand of her hair over her shoulder as she popped her hip to the left. “Where are you off to?”

“I’m going to go get drinks with Patrick,” David explained. Alexis closed the door with a gasp. She sat down on one of the chairs at the table, crossed her legs and laid her phone on the table, chain flat and straight on the table. 

“Score, David,” Alexis tapped her finger on the wood. 

“What?!” David turned to stare at her. He let go of the hair pinched between his fingertips as he shook his head at her. “As friends. We’re not, there’s nothing going on there.”

“But you want there to be? He’s a cute little button face that I’m  _ pretty  _ sure is gay because he did not respond to any of my usual flirting. Which, like  _ never _ happens,” Alexis’ eyes were wide and David would’ve loved to have been able to watch her get rejected. 

“Wait, do you want me to try something with someone you recently tried to get with?” David contemplated his shoe choices before throwing his hands in the air. The Wobbly Elm was  _ disgusting  _ so of course he was going to go with his most easily cleaned pair of shoes. “I stopped poking at your sloppy seconds when I turned 24.”

24 had seen  _ a lot  _ of personal growth, thank you very much. He sat on the end of his bed and pulled off his uggs and replaced them with his outside shoes, one at a time. 

“Okay, then, if it’s not one of those outings, then I’m going too,” Alexis stood up quickly and David’s jaw dropped at the idea. 

“No, nope,” David shook his head vehemently as he tucked his uggs underneath his bed. It was no use. He watched her pull her Marc Jacobs eyeliner from her makeup bag, the one that glided on like butter and darken her waterline. Within minutes she had transformed her daytime makeup to nighttime, adding a bit more highlight and a slightly darker lipstick. 

There was a knock on the door and before he could get up, Alexis was bounding to the door. 

“Patrick, hi,” Alexis breathed as she leaned against the open door. “I’m coming with you guys. Just give me two minutes.” 

“Okay,” Patrick looked confused as he watched Alexis stride to the closet, pull out a dress, then slink to the bathroom. 

“Sorry,” David muttered. “She’s been acting a little cagey lately, so there was no way I was going to be able to stop her.”

“It’s fine,” Patrick murmured with a smile. 

“Okay,” David whispered. They stood in silence as Alexis got ready, which David  _ hated.  _ Silence was dangerous but he had nothing to say. Regrets about saying yes to this in the first place were flying through his brain, but it seemed like the wrong time to get out of a  _ friendly _ night of drinking. 

Patrick was wearing another button down, sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow, but this one was black and the fabric looked  _ almost  _ of decent quality. But not quite. He wanted to comment on it. He kind of hated the look, but insulting Patrick just a few days after he called a truce seemed like the quickest way to have an enemy again. The only real issue with the shirt was that it was just a little too big. The inky black looked good against his skin, but the  _ fit  _ was just  _ bad  _ and that was offensive. 

He was losing the battle to not say something. A comment was right there, on the tip of his tongue, but the bathroom door swung open and Alexis was there, wearing a slinky dark purple number and it occurred to David, she was only joining them because it was a free ride and there was a good chance she wasn’t going home with them. 

“Okay, I’m ready!” Alexis pushed them out the door, but waved at David to lock the door which was  _ very  _ typical. David rolled his eyes at Patrick who huffed out a laugh.

“Who is that driving the car?” David asked as they stepped into the parking lot. 

“That’s Ray. He is a businessman who is trying out a new ride sharing venture. His primary business is real estate, but he also does filing stuff,” Patrick explained. But then he stopped walking and quirked a smile at David when David turned to him in question. “He also does travel planning and booking, business filing, feng shui consultations and most recently, closet organization.”

“Oh,” David grimaced. “That kind of seems like too many side-businesses for him to be good at any of them.”

“You should ask him about his car-share program and what makes it different than Uber,” Patrick said as they approached the car. Alexis was already tucked into the front seat. 

“Oh, I won’t be doing that,” David said with a grimace and a shake of his head. Patrick opened the door closest to them, but before David could walk around the back to the other side, Patrick stepped out of the way, motioning for David to climb in. 

David furrowed his brow at Patrick as Patrick folded himself into the car from the other side. 

“Wanted to do something nice for you before I did this,” Patrick said, his voice low and quiet between them. 

“What?” David cleared his throat, his hands tight on his seatbelt as he did the mechanism. “What’re you talking about?”

“Ray, David was just asking what made  _ Rides with Ray _ different from Uber or Lyft,” Patrick said, his eyes trained on David and David gritted his teeth at him. He could’ve sworn Patrick’s eyes got brighter and brighter as he talked.  _ That little asshole.  _

“I’m so glad you asked!” Ray turned to face David with a wide smile. He shook his fists with excitement and David considered opening the door and running back into the safety of his room. 

The car ride was long and Ray’s idea wasn’t that different from Uber or Lyft. Except requesting a ride from Ray could include being on his podcast, or it could include the option to bundle it with his other services. 

And Ray would provide the entertainment if the guest spot on his podcast was declined. But there was no music, only a live performance. 

But the very basic, bare bones of the business was the same. 

David spent the entire ride scowling at Patrick, who smirked back. Which was  _ infuriating  _ and David wished Patrick hadn’t tried that  _ clean slate  _ bullshit with him.

When they finally got to the bar, David was out of the car quickly and following Alexis into the bar, right on the heels of her Jimmy Choo’s. 

“I’m going to take a lap,” Alexis said as she pressed a finger into David’s bicep. “Hey David?”

David turned to her with a frown, which turned into a scowl as he watched one of her eyelids flutter in a wink. 

“Have fun with Patrick,” Alexis said. She turned away and began to walk slowly around the room before David could yell at her that  _ it wasn’t happening!  _

The door opened behind him, no doubt it was Patrick, but David kept his eyes ahead as he moved to the bar, right in front of the bartender. 

“Can I have a whiskey? A shot, please,” David asked. He raised his hand and pointed it at Patrick who was sidling up next to him. “You can put it on his tab, thanks so much.”

The bartender looked to Patrick in question. 

“Make that two,” Patrick said in consent. There was a soft pressure on his elbow and David turned towards it, right into Patrick’s space. “You have to admit, that was funny.”

David glared at him and turned back to the bar. The pressure was firmer against him. 

“Just a little bit?” Patrick murmured. David shook his head and Patrick chuckled. 

The bartender placed the cups in front of them and Patrick handed over his card. He pushed one of the cups to David and David picked it up gingerly and waited. He may not be a good person, but he knew to wait for a  _ cheers  _ when being bought a drink. 

“To friendship,” Patrick said as he held up his drink. David turned to face him. He propped his left elbow on the counter and fixed Patrick with a stare. In turn Patrick smirked, his eyes dropped to David’s glass and then fluttered back up. 

“Friendship?” David asked, his voice raising in question. 

“Mhm,” Patrick hummed. “I said I wanted a clean slate.”

“Doesn’t mean friendship,” David retorted. 

Patrick rolled his eyes with a groan before he pressed the glass to his lips. David mirrored him and they held eye contact as they tipped their respective glasses. David grimaced at the burn as he put his empty glass back down on the bar. 

“Oh Jesus,” David said as he grimaced and pushed his glass closer to Patrick’s, before he pulled it back and drank the last drop. When he put the glass down, he raised an eyebrow at Patrick and waited. 

“Want another?” Patrick asked.

“Yes, please,” David nodded quickly. He heard a high laugh cut through the crowd. He looked over to the crowd to see Alexis leaning against a guy, a bright drink in her hands. “She’s going to be so infuriating tomorrow.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows as he leaned past David, looking down the bar to where Alexis sat. 

“She met this homeless dude a few days ago and has not stopped talking about him. It’s exhausting,” David explained. He watched the bartender pour them another shot. 

“Who?” Patrick asked. He leaned in just slightly and David rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know. Some guy with a beard,” David expanded. 

“Ah, okay,” Patrick picked up his glass,  _ clinked  _ it with David’s and shot it back before David could catch up with his movements. “Wait are you talking about Mutt?”

“Who?” David asked as he picked up his own glass. 

“The guy with a beard. He actually does have a home,” Patrick explained. David just shook his head at him in confusion. “Nevermind, want a beer?”

“Sure,” David spoke through his grunt as he stacked his glass on Patrick’s. 

“Wanna go snatch that pool table?” Patrick tilted his head towards the corner where a pool table had just opened up. 

“No,” David tried to control his features, he really did, but when he came with Stevie, they played pool and he does  _ not  _ want to relive that nightmare. 

“So you’d rather sit and talk?” Patrick asked as he tilted his head. His eyes were wide and soft and David didn’t like whatever Patrick was thinking. 

“That one?” David asked, pointing to the pool table in question. Just to be sure. And to be a little shit. 

“Go quick,” Patrick murmured as he wrapped a warm hand around David’s elbow and pushed him away from the bar. 

David huffed as he walked to the table. The wood looked sticky and David wanted to gag at the sight. At least Stevie had gotten him drunk before making him play. He could feel someone coming close to him, then Patrick was brushing past him, tray of balls in one hand and the fingers of the other were holding on tight to the necks of two bottles. 

“Have you played?” Patrick asked as he placed the tray on the table and handed a beer to David. 

“Of course, all the time,” David said. He took the beer and studied the label. There seemed to be only one type of beer to be found in the region and David hated that, but he hated the idea of the bartender mixing his drinks even more. Nothing about the long beard and minor league baseball team shirt said  _ anything  _ remotely close to “ _ I know what drinks should be shaken and not stirred”  _ which only scared David more than the general thought of the town did. 

“Oh yeah? Hit up a lot of dive bars while living in NYC?” Patrick asked with a smirk as he set up the balls. David grimaced at the sound of the balls clacking around. 

“Of course. I love drinking out of questionably washed glasses and having my feet stick to the floor,” David tried to tease, but he gave away the game with the deep scowl on his face. He couldn’t make it through a sentence so  _ incorrect.  _ There should be proper lighting at the entrance to a bar. And also a mirror. 

“So no dive bars,” Patrick said, with confidence, which David found rude. Maybe he had been completely correct in the _ hating Patrick _ thing. 

“Not sure what part of this,” David waved an open hand in front of his chest, proud and quick infront of his Alexander Wang sweater. “--screams I would consider going to dive bars when literally every other bar was an option.”

Patrick leaned against the side of the table, arms crossed, plastic triangle dangling from his fingertips, and stared at David, eyes moving slowly over his body.

“Maybe that’s your problem,” Patrick said as he stood up. “There are a lot of fine things in life, but sometimes, nothing compares to drinking on a Friday, after a rough week, in a barely acceptable bar.”

Patrick left the triangle on a hook on the wall, pulled down two pool cues and handed one off to David. 

“This is sticky,” David held it out to Patrick who took it back and handed his own to David. “This is also sticky.”

“Get used to it,” Patrick said, frankly. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me?” David asked. He put his beer down next to Patrick’s, which was already half empty. He was not going to be the sober one this evening. He drank mouthfuls of beer as Patrick put down the white ball and dipped low, bent over at the waist as he set it up, slightly off center. 

“I’m breaking. And I am being nice to you,” Patrick said as he set up his cue, pulled back and shot the ball forward, hitting the triangle and sending the balls rolling in different directions. 

“I don’t know what that means,” David shook his head.

“I broke the triangle. It’s the first shot in pool. It’s your turn,” Patrick took a step back from the table while David took a step closer and rolled his eyes. 

He had learned a little bit from playing with Stevie. 

“Am I stripes or solids?” David asked with a head tilt. He hoped that the question came off as endearing and not sad. 

“I didn’t hit any in, so you can go for either one,” Patrick said. 

Maybe he didn’t learn that much. 

“Do you want tips--” Patrick started but David cut him off with a glare. 

“Okay,” Patrick said, laughing as he picked up his beer. 

David studied the placement of the balls. There was a striped ball right on the edge of one of the corner holes, right in line with the white ball so it only made sense to go for it. It was easy math. 

The white ball followed the striped one in and David stepped back with a frown. 

“At least I got one in,” David said. He waved his hand, preemptively dismissing the comment he knew Patrick was going to make, then watched as Patrick dug the white ball out of the little corner bag and placed it at the opposite end of the table. 

David watched him get one ball, then another, then fumble on the third. 

At least the game was going to be quick. 

“This is going to be embarrassing,” David muttered as he moved to situate himself. Patrick laughed and David turned to him. “Okay we don’t need any of that tonight.”

“Sorry, David,” Patrick said as he watched David set up his cue, a smile still teasing at his lips and David wasn’t sure why he agreed to do this. Patrick drank from his bottle as David hit the white ball and oh, yeah, that’s why. Alcohol. 

“Your turn again,” David said as a striped ball zipped around the table, bumping into balls. 

“No, watch,” Patrick pointed to a random striped ball that was slowly rolling to the corner. They watched it tip into the pocket and David opened his mouth in shock. “Now, that’s a slop.”

“Excuse me?” David furrowed his brows at Patrick. 

_ Clean slate my ass.  _

“It’s when you unintentionally get a ball in. It wasn’t the ball you were trying to get in, so it’s a slop,” Patrick explained. David just stared at him, watched Patrick blink slow and stare back at David. “You get to go again.”

The game was rough. David stared at the plethora of balls he could choose from and rolled his eyes at the two solid balls that remained. The easiest ball he could knock in was still too hard. He didn’t want to play anymore, he was pleasantly drunk, Alexis was at a table with the same dude she was talking to earlier. She had come over once to pet at David’s arm and comment on how tragically he was playing, but she didn’t offer to help. Only flounced back to the table once the man came out of the bathroom. 

“Do you want help?” Patrick asked. He was back with fresh beers and David wanted to say  _ no, fuck off.  _ But he was losing too badly. 

“Yeah,” David admitted with a pout. Patrick laughed as he put their fresh bottles next to their multiple empty ones. 

“Your main problem has been that your angles are wrong,” Patrick said as he gently took the cue from David’s hands. He hip checked David out of the way and placed the cue flat on the table and bent over to stare down the wood. 

Patrick was close and David was tipsy enough to appreciate the proximity and warmth. He watched Patrick roll the cue slightly to the side before he stood up and then his warm hands were pulling David back over, so he was staring at the cue, pointing at the ball David was originally thinking about. Patrick moved around the table until he was on the opposite side, close to the ball. 

“So you want the ball,” Patrick pointed at the ball. “To go in this pocket.”

“Got that,” David murmured. Patrick chuckled lowly and David raised an eyebrow at him, his head thrown back in annoyance. 

“It needs to go this way,” Patrick dragged a fingertip along the table. “So to go that way, you need to hit the ball here.”

Patrick pointed to the edge of the ball, opposite of where the pocket was. He traced out the projection of the white ball and then David was hitting it and they watched the striped ball go into the pocket. Patrick set him up for another and David hit that one fast and hard into a pocket, the white ball rolled to the other side of the table and Patrick stepped back, let David do the next one, sinking a third ball in a row. 

“See, you’re good,” Patrick watched with a smile as David missed the fourth one. 

“You say that, but you watched me not get that one in,” David commented as Patrick walked around the table so he was closer to the white ball. 

“But now we’re tied and I have no good shots,” Patrick said. David watched him consider his options. Patrick looked up, his gaze piercing through his lashes. “You’ve made it hard for me, David Rose. But I love a challenge.”

_ Oh _ . 

Patrick lined up a shot, across the table from him and looked up as he pulled his cue back. He blushed as he caught David’s eye and David smirked at him. His eyes were bright and David remembered smoking that joint with him, nestled in the trees; how Patrick looked in the hot cast of the bonfire when he made drinks for David. 

The soft eyes as Patrick dropped off towels at his door. 

Maybe he wasn’t so bad. 

The game went on, and ultimately, Patrick won, but David was so close. The loss was bitter on his tongue and David shook his head at Patrick, who laughed and offered to grab more beer and take the balls back. 

“Where’d you learn to play pool?” David asked as he took his bottle from Patrick. 

“Uh,” Patrick looked off to the side, his teeth deep in his bottom lip. “My ex was really good at pool. So I had to learn very quickly how to hold my own.”

“Did he take you for everything you’ve got?” David teased. Patrick’s eyes were wide when he looked back at David. 

“Actually it was my ex-fiancee. We were together for like, 11 years. Off and on. She loved to play,” Patrick explained. David watched as Patrick pulled at the corner of the moist label on his bottle. 

David tapped on his own bottle. 

“Have I met her yet?” David furrowed his eyebrows in question. He had met a lot of people since being dropped in Schitt’s Creek. 

“Oh, no,” Patrick laughed softly as he shook his head. “I used to live in a town 6 hours from here. I broke up with her for good when I was 27 and just left in a panic. Drove to Schitt’s Creek because of the name. Checked in as Stevie was drafting a craigslist ad for a business manager and I gave her five solid reasons why she should hire me, then she did.”

“She’s been really amazing. Let me stay at the motel for a discounted rate while we worked on making it better. I started dating and realized I was gay and my life slowly started to click into place,” Patrick paused. David wanted to shake his head at the thought of starting your life over in Schitt’s Creek, at how pathetic and sad that was, but he had to do it, too. It wasn’t a joke anymore. “It’s been about two years and I’m glad I left and made it here.”

David was quiet. He wouldn’t be glad until the town sign was in his rearview mirror.

“It’s been two years and the motel looks like that?” David asked with a scoff. Patrick laughed. 

“Hey, you didn’t see the place when we started!” Patrick exclaimed. His voice was loud and David looked around, hoping no one had turned to them. Patrick was grinning when he turned back to face Patrick. “Plus, Stevie told me about how you told her that it looked much better than it did last year.”

“You know what, I’ll give you that one,” David pointed his bottle at Patrick, who laughed in response and pushed David’s bottle back closer to David’s chest. David smirked at the action, felt his body tingle and  _ oh,  _ he was at the horny stage of his drunkenness, where he was toeing the line between tipsy and drunk and just wanted to feel good, make someone else feel good. 

“So how is the dating scene here?” David asked, curious. If he was going to be here for an undetermined amount of time, he was going to make it bearable. 

“Depends on what or who you’re looking for,” Patrick responded, his head tilted. His face was flushed, lips just as pink as the tops of his cheeks. David’s mind flashed to that one night, a year ago, where Patrick was laying down next to him, spread out on red sheets, just fucked and lips swollen from biting them as he came. 

“Oh, I don’t,” David shook his head, throwing the image out of his mind. “I’m an “into the wine, not the label” kind of person.”

Patrick hummed as he nodded, his bottom lip dragging against the top of the bottle as he nodded continuously. 

“Pan?” Patrick asked.

“Yeah,” David confirmed, surprised that Patrick,—small-town Patrick—knew that. 

“The queer community is kind of small. But it’s gotten the job done,” Patrick shrugged. “I have no doubt that you’ll find what you’re looking for, casual or relationship.”

“Oh,” David sighed. “I’m not, relationships aren’t really my thing.”

“Oh?” Patrick asked. He took a pull from his bottle. David’s eyes zeroed in where Patrick’s lips were pressed to the bottle, his fingers were thick and pale against the brown glass.

“I like casual,” David shrugged. His eyes flickered down to the chipped table and then back up. “I just like to feel good. Make other people feel good.”

David reached out and trailed a finger over the back of Patrick’s hand that was pressed flat on the tabletop. David watched as he traced over a vein. He looked up, and made note of how Patrick had leaned forward, just a smidge and how his skin was white where he was gripping the bottle. David knew how he looked right now, knew how people reacted to him like this. 

“But you know that, Patrick,” David said in a rush. 

Patrick nodded and his fingers twitched under David’s touch. 

“It was really good,” Patrick murmured, his eyes bright as they watched each other. 

“Very, very good,” David agreed. It had been great, something that David thought about often. “You took it well.”

David waited a beat, just to let the thought settle into Patrick’s mind. 

“Very bratty,” David murmured, his voice low. Patrick leaned in further, just a hair and David smirked. 

“If I remember correctly,” Patrick started. “You were very demanding.”

David shrugged. “You were into it.”

“I still am,” Patrick said. 

David’s beer was empty, Patrick’s was close to the end. Patrick’s eyes were wild, like he had already caught onto David. David wanted to fuck him again. He wanted to push against Patrick and for Patrick to push back, to deny him part of what he wanted before letting him take everything that he needed. 

“You get off on it?” David asked. Patrick shrugged. 

“I like not having to think when it comes to sex,” Patrick explained. “I like giving people what they want.”

Patrick finished his beer. 

“That’s what I get off on,” Patrick concluded, nodding softly as he looked past David. He blinked slowly as his eyes focused back onto David’s fingers, where they were travelling up his forearm and dipping underneath the edge of Patrick’s rolled up sleeves. 

Patrick licked his lips, his impossibly pink lips that David just wanted to bite. He leaned in closer and Patrick swayed closer in response. 

“Your lips would look so pretty,” David breathed. “Stretched around my cock.”

“Yeah?” Patrick asked, his voice already thin and breathy. 

“Mhm,” David hummed. “You want it? I could make it good for you.”

Patrick’s eyes fluttered closed for a second. 

“Where’s the bathroom?” David asked.

“Down that hallway,” Patrick jerked his head in the direction of the open doorway. 

David knocked his knuckles against the table and then stood up. 

“I’ll be in the men’s restroom?” David asked. 

“First bathroom,” Patrick corrected. 

“Great, I’ll be in the first restroom if you care to join me,” David said as he walked in the direction of the bathroom. He locked the door behind him as he peed. There was a soft knock on the door as he dried his hands. 

As soon as he opened the door, Patrick slipped in, locked the door and David pulled him into a bruising kiss. There was a rush of cool air on David’s hip as Patrick’s hands slipped around his waist and raised his sweater. Patrick’s fingertips were rough against his skin, his mouth soft and pliant as David tilted his jaw up and licked into his mouth. 

All the tension David had been carrying since he stepped on the bus slowly melted from his bones. He felt alive. This is what he needed. A chance out of his own head. Patrick was kissing him like he was desperate for it and David was drunk with the thought that  _ he  _ did that. He didn’t have much to offer anymore, but he still has this. He could drive Patrick wild, an achievement all on its own. 

“Fuck,” Patrick breathed against David’s lips as David backed him into the door, his hips held Patrick there as he moved against him. Patrick’s fingertips sneaked past the waist of David’s jeans and pulled David closer, holding him there. Patrick tilted his head back as David bit at his neck. He gasped out. “Let me have it.”

“What do you want?” David teased. He loved this moment, when he worked his lover up and they  _ needed  _ it. 

“I wanna suck your cock,” Patrick stated, his voice hoarse.  _ Already.  _

“Yeah, yeah,” David stepped back as he undid his pants. He was half hard and ready for Patrick’s mouth. 

Patrick pushed at David’s hips, moving them further away from the door, and as soon as there was space, Patrick lowered himself down onto his knees and pulled at the top of David’s jeans, helping him lower the fabric down his thighs. 

“David,” Patrick whispered. David gasped as Patrick sucked the head of his cock into his mouth. 

_ Why didn’t they do this a year ago? _

Patrick’s mouth was warm and wet as he teased David until he was fully hard and shaking like a leaf under Patrick’s touch. His hands stroked what Patrick’s tongue wasn’t working at, his fingertips applied the right amount of friction to his perineum while Patrick’s tongue worked over David’s balls and his other hand stroked David, twisted at the head of his cock to gather whatever wetness was developing there. 

David was lost in the sensations, his hand rested on top of Patrick’s head, guided him for  _ more  _ whenever Patrick did anything that David particularly loved. It was like Patrick was cataloguing everything that made David moan, made David’s muscles clench with pleasure, and was one-upping himself at every chance he got. 

“I’m getting close,” David gasped out when the head of his cock hit the back of Patrick’s throat. He could feel little tufts of air as Patrick took him deeper, his nose rubbing along the base of David’s cock. “ _ Fuck.”  _

Patrick pulled off his cock slowly, sucking as he went, his tongue silky against David. His hands were everywhere as his mouth slid along him. He tongued at David’s slit and David screwed his eyes shut as he felt a tingle zip up his spine. 

“I’m going to come,” David panted, his hands fluttered over Patrick’s head as Patrick hollowed his cheeks. He lost his spatial awareness as he came on Patrick’s tongue as Patrick worked him over.  _ How many hands did he have?  _ “Fuck, Patrick.”

Patrick pulled off his cock with a gasp and an obscene  _ pop!  _ His lips were red and swollen, his cheeks flushed, this time from sucking cock and not alcohol. His hair was mused from where David’s fingers had combed through the short strands, searching and grasping for purchase, somewhere, anywhere in the impossibly short hairs. 

“I’m so hard,” Patrick whined as he undid his jeans. David was a second away from pulling him to his feet when Patrick pulled his cock out and began jerking himself, pulling at his cock, still on his knees in a dingy bathroom. “Fuck.”

David wrapped a hand around the back of Patrick’s head as Patrick leaned forward, resting his forehead against David’s bare thigh. The bathroom was filled with Patrick’s harsh breaths and the sound of Patrick’s hand flying over his cock. David watched as Patrick brought his own hand up to his face, spit on it and then continued to stroke himself. 

“Look how hard you got from sucking my cock,” David murmured and Patrick paused, looked up at him, eyes wide and wild. 

“Keep talking,” Patrick begged as he moved again, this time his eyes were trained on David’s face. 

“Watch yourself, Patrick,” David said, moving his hand on Patrick’s head until Patrick was looking down at himself. “So hard. Just from having your mouth on my cock. I haven’t even touched you.”

Patrick whimpered and David tightened his grip on him. They paused as they heard someone walk down the hallway, held their breaths until the footsteps faded away. 

“What do you think they would say if they knew that you were in here, fucking your own fist because some guy blew their load in your mouth,” David tsk’d. “Should we let them in to see you like this? They could see how much you love cock.”

“I’m gonna come,” Patrick panted. He moved a hand to grip David’s thigh, his fingers pressed into David’s skin and he really enjoyed that. 

“Look at me,” David’s voice was sharp and Patrick looked up in an instant. “Wanna watch you come.”

“Fuck, yeah?” Patrick’s voice was broken. So hoarse from sucking David’s cock deep into his throat and breathy from his own round of pleasure. 

“Yeah,” David whispered. Patrick was gone, so drunk on pleasure, shaking where he was huddled on the floor. 

Patrick came with a loud, long, low moan that shook David down to the core. David watched the waves of pleasure crash over Patrick’s face, watched him come on the floor in ribbons that made David ache to take Patrick in his mouth. 

“Want you to come in my mouth next time,” David murmured as he raked his fingernails through Patrick’s hair. 

“Fuck,” Patrick gasped. David relaxed his grip on Patrick, let him fall against David. “Fuck.”

David moved his leg, nudged Patrick back. 

“Come on, you gotta wipe your come off the floor and I think someone knocked on the door when you came,” David helped Patrick up, helped him do his jeans back up, and fixed his own pants as Patrick grabbed toilet paper. He swayed on his feet as he attempted to bend over to wipe the floor. David caught him, held him up as he cleaned the floor. 

“Sorry, that was a really good orgasm,” Patrick grinned when he stood back up. 

“It was,” David fought back a smile. “Now let’s go rehydrate and find food.”

Patrick sat at their original table and waited for David to come back with two glasses of water and his receipt to sign. They downed their glasses in silence and called an actual taxi home, dealing with Ray was something they did not want to do, not after a romp in the bathroom. Patrick had mentioned walking, which David flat out refused to do. Not this late at night. Too many moths. 

They said quiet goodbyes at the motel and David stood at his door and watched the taxi pull out of the parking lot and disappear onto the street. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come find me on tumblr [as samwhambam](https://samwhambam.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of threw you for a change up with that last chapter, huh? lol
> 
> love you all x

David woke up with the slight hum of a headache and a heavy feeling in his gut. He wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew it was from lack of sleep, thinking and obsessing over the blowjob. Patrick’s mouth was heavenly and he had enjoyed every moment of their back and forth. 

It had left him with a desire, burning low in him, clawing at his muscles. He replayed the night against the black of his eyelids and oh, it’s still so good.

He wanted Patrick. He wanted to fuck him again, kiss him until Patrick was gasping and making those little whines in the back of his throat. He wanted Patrick’s mouth back on his cock. He wanted to rim Patrick, could only imagine the responses he would get out of him. 

The only thing holding him back from all of that, from pursuing it all, was that it was  _ Patrick.  _

Patrick co-managed the motel that he was staying in—he wasn’t admitting to  _ living  _ there yet. David had leaned into the moment, chased what he wanted and Patrick had followed willingly. But he was at Patrick’s mercy for  _ towels.  _ Something about that hit him over the head with a bit of self-loathing. 

He couldn’t afford to not have access to towels _.  _

But last night was  _ good  _ and David wanted more of it, wanted to follow Patrick over the brink to orgasm  _ multiple  _ times. 

He just wasn’t sure how to approach that conversation. David knew how to seduce people, knew how to rile them up and get them panting for him. But he didn’t know how to talk to them when he respected them, and thought they were nice and wanted to do something clearly defined without bleeding into something more. 

David pulled his blanket over his head and if Alexis wasn’t asleep in the room, he would scream into the warm den he created, the frustration rising through his body.

He heard rustling from the bed next to his, so he peeked out from his cocoon to watch Alexis rub at her face, then stare at her hand in disgust. 

“Ew!” She gasped. She turned to David with a glare. “You let me go to sleep without taking my makeup off?”

He watched her tear herself out of bed, stomp her way to the bathroom and slam the door closed. 

It was early, but he could hear his parents moving around in their room. It was time to mentally prepare for breakfast, at the cafe, with the large menus and the wide array of breakfast foods cooked in what he was pretty sure was recycled grease. 

He didn’t want to go, but he was more likely to run into Patrick at the motel than at the cafe and he wasn’t ready to face  _ that  _ anytime soon. 

Breakfast was uneventful and Patrick free. David argued with Alexis over elbow room, same as they had every day since coming to Schitt’s Creek. When he didn’t feel better afterwards, he hid in his room until Patrick’s car disappeared, and then waited another few minutes. 

David turned the knob on the lobby door and it opened smoothly, didn’t even creak and then he was leaning back on it, the door closed behind him and Stevie was staring at him with an expectant look on her face. 

“Can I help you?” She asked. Maybe this was a bad idea, but David was there and he needed to burden someone else with his thoughts. He was tired. 

“Okay, so I need your advice,” David said. He pushed himself up off the door and walked the few steps to the desk. 

“Hello to you too,” Stevie said as she placed her book on the desk, open side face down. 

“Hi,” David shimmied his shoulders before he placed his forearms on the desk. “I did something and I think I’m going to do it again and I need you to either talk me out of it or tell me that it’s a great idea.”

Stevie raised her eyebrows and David could see how that statement was concerning. He waved a finger in the air, and stuttered through false starts before he screwed his eyes shut. 

“Patrick and I fooled around last night,” David said. He pursed his lips at Stevie’s wide eyes. “We were a little drunk. I made some suggestive comments and basically told him that he was invited to join me in the restroom of Wobbly Elm. And he did.”

“First bathroom or second?” Stevie interrupted him. David gaped at her. 

“Does it matter?” He asked, voice high and shrill. 

“It actually really does,” Stevie deadpanned. 

“It was the first one,” David answered in a huff. This wasn’t what he came to her for. 

“Good. I would judge you if it was the second one,” Stevie said with a smirk. “Never use the second one.”

“Okay, but what do I do?” David asked, his fingers tight on the desk as he gripped the edge of it. 

“About what?” Stevie asked, her eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Do I fuck him again? Or do I avoid him forever?” David asked in return. 

“Talk to him,” She suggested and he  _ really  _ didn’t come to her for that. “If he wants to do it again, then you’ll have your answer.”

“I’d rather not talk to him?” David said in response. Stevie stared at him and he broke. “I’m scared that he’s going to want something more than sex and I would agree to it because the sex was  _ really _ good and I’m currently not doing anything besides reading whatever trashy books you lend me, so I will 100% say yes to dates to help pass the time and I have a feeling it’s not going to end well.”

David took a deep breath. Stevie was still staring at him. 

“I really am not looking to date anyone. In general. The last relationship I was in, my ex-girlfriend left in the middle of the night and left a note in the pillow next to me thanking me for the bottle of xanax she took from me. The note was stuck to the pillow because she stabbed a steak knife through the note, and into the pillow,” David grimaced. “So, not an option.”

Stevie blinked slowly at him.  _ Did she steal the move from Patrick or was it the other way around? _

“How big of a bottle was it?” She finally asked. 

“Not important,” He waved the question off. 

“Okay,” Stevie took a deep breath. “You need to talk to him. I don’t like to tell people other people’s business. But, what I will say--”

“Tell me,” David interrupted. He shook his head with a grimace at the glare Stevie gave him.  _ Or was it just her face?  _

“He recently got out of a relationship. Wasn’t serious, but they were seeing each other for a few months. The other guy wanted more. Patrick didn’t, so I don’t think you have to worry about anything,” Stevie explained. 

“Okay,” David sighed in relief. 

“Just talk to him, so you can stop talking to me,” Stevie said as she picked up her book. “He’ll be in at 7. There’s one late check-in and I think he has to do some quarterly things. Not sure. I stopped listening. Who knows...”

Stevie’s voice dropped and David leaned in closer to hear. 

“You might just continue having good sex,” She whispered and David stood up straight and rolled his eyes. 

David knew when he was being dismissed. He nodded as he moved back to the door. 

“Stevie, real quick. What’s wrong with the second bathroom?” David asked, the door to the office open and his body half way out. 

“Oh, there’s a gloryhole in there,” Stevie said as she turned the page of her book, eyes focused on the words in front of her. 

“That’s not that bad,” David responded. 

“Someone put their dick through it and then got tetanus from cutting themselves on the hole,” Stevie looked up at him. “Go in there if you want, but tetanus.”

David grunted in disgust and slammed the door closed behind him. 

*

“So when are we going out again?” Alexis asked as she flipped the page of the magazine she was reading. He wrinkled his nose at her.  _ Major Lady Magazine  _ hadn’t been in style since the early 90’s and honestly, Alexis would be better off reading Perez Hilton. 

“We’re not,” David responded. He was on his bed, shoed feet hanging off the edge, scrolling on his phone as he read celebrity gossip from reputable news sources. 

“Okay, but it was so much fun and I need to socialize,” Alexis  _ humph’d _ at him. 

“Then go socialize, just don’t bring anyone back here,” David waved his hand at her. She grunted in response, he ignored her. 

It was 6:45 and they were leaving for dinner soon and when he came back, he was going to talk to Patrick. 

He was going to. 

The room adjoining his and his parents room opened and his mom stepped in, asked them to join them for dinner and he left his phone on his bed and tried to push what was happening with Patrick out of his mind. Just until he came back. 

Dinner was uneventful. His dad went on and on about plans he had been going back and forth on with Ray. Apparently Ray was mainly a realtor and his dad had appointed him in charge of selling the town, which did not spark any vote of confidence in David. 

Not in  _ Rides with Ray _ , Ray. Nope. 

The motel was quiet when they got back and David slipped away with barely a glance from his dad who was leading his mom through their door. 

When he opened the office door, Patrick was helping a couple at the desk. They were laughing, the couple more so than Patrick, who was chuckling along very politely. 

“I’m sorry, I have to help another guest. I’ll be here for another half hour if you need anything,” Patrick said, politely dismissing the couple. They left slowly, still telling Patrick about their trip, as Patrick ushered them out. He held the door for them and finally, they were gone and Patrick was turning to David. “Thank you. So much.”

David hummed as Patrick walked past him, back to the desk. 

“What’s up?” Patrick asked as he clicked around on the computer. 

“I…” David trailed off. He had spent a considerable amount of time earlier trying to think of what he wanted to say, but he had drawn a blank. What do you say when you want to fuck someone again but you don’t want to make it obvious. “I need more towels.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows at him.

“I feel like we should start charging for all the extra towels your family uses,” Patrick teased before he disappeared through the open door to the side of the desk. 

“I don’t think you should,” David shook his head once Patrick came back. “I’m pretty sure that having extra towels is the only reason why my mom hasn’t burned down the motel yet.”

David took the towels from Patrick. The towels were scratchy under his hands and David missed being completely surrounded by luxury fabrics. 

“But where would you stay if she did?” Patrick pointed out, his lip quirked into his cheek. David just stared at him before he placed the towels down on the table. 

“I don’t need that pessimism in my life right now,” David ran his hands over the towel, smoothing the wrinkles in the fold. “So. Last night was good.”

“It was,” Patrick murmured. When David looked up, Patrick was blushing and watching his hands, watching as David smoothed out the towel, fingered along the folds and pulled at loose fibers. 

David wanted to say something in response, but Patrick looked up at him, wide-eyed and cocked his head. It was like there was a thin rope, pulling them together, the rope taught and frayed in the middle. It was about to snap and the result would be explosive and David was  _ ready  _ for it.

“I wouldn’t be opposed…” Patrick trailed off. David raised an eyebrow at him. 

David glanced past Patrick, at the plaque on the wall that usually held the room keys, except tonight, there were none. It seemed like a sign, but David was well versed in only following the signs he wanted to. 

“The motel sold out,” David commented. “Even that hideous room.”

“We remodeled that room,” Patrick tapped his fingers on the desk before he moved his stuff off of the desk, onto what David could only assume was some secret shelf below. He pushed himself away from the desk and moved to the open doorway. He leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms and tilted his chin at David in a challenge. 

David stared at Patrick, not sure what he wanted to do. He wanted to know what was on the other side of the open doorway, but he also wanted to go back to his bed before he made a bad decision. 

The image of Patrick on his knees for him invaded his mind and made his decision for him. 

“Well, that’s probably why your business is starting to pick up,” David said as he made his way to the end of the desk. “Either that or your impeccable customer service.”

Patrick’s eyes twinkled as he bit back a laugh. 

“I do take pride in keeping people satisfied,” Patrick hit back. 

“I think maybe I should do some quality control?” David teased. He walked past Patrick, through the open doorway. 

“If you insist,” Patrick’s voice called out. 

David could hear rustling coming from the lobby and the clear  _ click  _ of a lock sliding into place. He bit back a smirk as he looked around the room. There were shelves with towels stacked on it, drawers labeled with different  _ amenities  _ they had for guests. There was a desk, a few chairs and a brand new loveseat, plastic still covering the sofa. 

_ Perfect.  _

“David,” Patrick breathed from the doorway and David turned around to face him. 

“Nice couch,” David said. He backed himself up to it and dropped onto the piece of furniture. The plastic crinkled underneath him and he grimaced at the sound. 

“It’s for out there,” Patrick said as he nodded back to the door. He moved forward, and David could feel the need radiating off of Patrick, pulling him closer to David’s body. “Stevie and I are planning on painting before we move the couch.”

“Yeah?” David said as he shifted his body to get comfortable. He patted the couch next to him and Patrick moved towards him as he unbuttoned his shirt. 

“Mhm,” Patrick hummed as he sat on the couch, folding his legs underneath his body as he settled onto the cushion. 

“What color are you going to paint the walls?” David asked. Patrick dropped his shirt onto the couch behind him, then picked at the shoulder of David’s sweater. 

“Not sure yet,” Patrick said. “Can you take your sweater off please?” 

“Only cause you asked so nicely,” David teased. He pulled his sweater off, careful not to elbow Patrick who had leaned in closer as David’s skin was exposed. He draped it over the arm of the sofa before he pulled at Patrick’s left leg, pulling as Patrick moved to straddle David’s thighs. 

“I’m always nice,” Patrick murmured as he leaned in. David chuckled against Patrick’s lips. Patrick was heavy on his lap and David loved it. 

“You’re not that nice,” David said before he connected their lips, just for a chaste kiss. He pulled back before Patrick could deepen the kiss. “You may be good in bed, Patrick. But you’re not nice.”

“Stop teasing me and fuck me already,” Patrick snapped as his hands slid along David’s jaw. He pulled him into a kiss and David gasped into it as Patrick kissed him, rough and snippy, his teeth sharp on David’s lower lip. 

Patrick’s palms were warm through David’s undershirt, as they ran over his shoulders, along the top strip of his back. Patrick’s skin was smooth under David’s hands, his hips were soft, but his braided belt was rough under David’s fingertips as his hands danced along the top of Patrick’s jeans, glancing back and forth between fabric and skin, teasing Patrick until Patrick was digging his fingers into David’s shirt. 

His fingertips ran over the leather square at the back of Patrick’s jeans before they dipped down into his back pockets. These were Levis, which David could get on board with, unlike the Gap Patrick wore when he first met him. That was fucking awful. 

Patrick’s tongue was persistent against his as Patrick shifted up onto his knees and tilted David’s head back as he got taller. David’s head was spinning as Patrick took charge of the kiss, but he collected himself just enough to trace back along the braid of the belt, to finger at the buckle and pull it off in one swift motion that had Patrick gasping into his mouth. 

“David,” Patrick moaned as he threw his head back in surprise, breaking their kiss as David undid the button of Patrick’s jeans roughly, shifting his hips as he pulled at the denim. 

David pulled him in closer, as close as his hips could get before he smoothed his hands over the front of Patrick’s hips and pushed him back, away from him, closer to his knees. 

“Get naked,” David said when Patrick whined at the distance David forced between their bodies. 

Patrick slid onto the floor to stand on shaky legs. There was a small, child-like part of David that saw the quiver in Patrick’s legs and wanted to kick them out from underneath him, but he didn’t know where that came from and he was locking that back up in its own disturbing box in his mind. 

“Are you gonna get naked?” Patrick asked as he untied his shoes and slipped them and his socks off. 

David stood in response. The movement crowded him against Patrick and David avoided his lips by undressing, his movements careful and calculated so he didn’t actually hit Patrick. 

He was half hard from making out on the couch, from Patrick’s weight on him, and he was getting harder at the implication of what was next. Patrick was standing in front of him, eyes skimming over David’s body as he pulled at his own cock and there was something so hot about that, about watching Patrick’s cock growing in his hand as he looked at David, getting himself ready for whatever they were about to do. 

“Fuck, David,” Patrick pushed at David’s shoulder with his free hand. David wanted to follow the movement of Patrick’s hand, wanted to collapse back onto the couch, let Patrick crawl back onto him so he could fuck himself in David’s fist. 

But the  _ fucking  _ plastic. 

“Wait,” David soothed a hand over Patrick’s shoulder as he moved past him, towards the shelves with the clean, neatly folded towels. He grabbed one, laid it down on the couch and let himself fall back and settle onto the couch. “C’mere.”

David beckoned him closer and Patrick climbed back onto him, his thighs bracketing David’s as he sat back. 

“What do you want tonight, Patrick?” David asked as he pulled at Patrick’s wrist, pulled his hand off his cock and guided it until Patrick’s fingers were curling around David’s own. 

His thick fingers wrapped around David, stroked David as David got harder, thicker, longer underneath his touch. 

“David,” Patrick breathed as he leaned forward to rest his forehead on David’s collarbone.

“You wanna get me off?” David murmured, his lips moved against the short hairs at Patrick’s temple, his breath ghosted over Patrick’s ear and David could feel Patrick shuddering as he ran his hands up and down his back. 

Patrick’s grip tightened on him as he ran his thumb over the head of David’s cock. 

“Yes or no?” David nipped at the shell of Patrick’s ear, his teeth skipped over the skin and Patrick moaned loud and long. 

“Yes,” Patrick gasped as David’s fingertips dug into the flesh of his ass. “Can I get you off?”

David nodded. “Make me come.”

“I want to,” Patrick traced a fingertip over David’s slit and David was ready to lose it. “I need to get something real quick.”

Patrick pressed a kiss to David’s shoulder in apology as he let go and got up, sliding through David’s grip. 

David watched him walk into the lobby, his strides unsteady as he swayed, heard him move stuff around and the  _ zip  _ of a metal zipper. When he came back, he had a foil packet in his hands. 

“What’s that?” David asked as Patrick kneeled on the ground in front of David. He bit at the corner of the packet and ripped it open. 

“Lube,” Patrick said as he poured the contents of the packet onto his hand. “Scoot closer to the end of the couch?”

“When did you start calling the shots?” David volleyed as he shifted down until his ass was close to the edge. 

“When you asked me to make you come,” Patrick slipped his hand over David’s cock. David breathed in relief at the  _ slick, _ at the way that Patrick’s hand was gliding over his cock, different from the harsh, dry tugs. “Can I rim you?”

_ Oh fuck.  _

That had never been on his list of possibilities for whatever was happening with Patrick in the near future, but fuck, it should’ve been number one on his list. He was so hard in Patrick’s hand and just the  _ thought  _ of Patrick’s tongue on his hole had his cock twitching.

“Yep, mhm, totally,” David nodded enthusiastically as he took in the scene, contemplating his legs and Patrick’s position. Patrick was still jerking him off, oh so slowly. “Which leg?”

David gripped both legs behind the knee and raised his eyebrow in question. 

“Both,” Patrick said. David pulled each one to his chest and Patrick lowered himself into position. But then he sat back, let go of David’s cock, even though David clearly whined in protest. “Wait. Get on your knees, hands on the back of the couch.”

“So bossy,” David said as he sat up and maneuvered into position. 

“Do you want me to eat you out?” Patrick said, hands on his hip and he was  _ wasting the lube.  _

“Ugh!” David huffed as he bent himself into position. 

A hand scratched up the back of his thigh while the other went back to his dick, working him as Patrick’s tongue worked over his balls, teased at his perineum and then finally,  _ finally  _ licked over his hole, just a warm kiss of a touch that had David squirming for more. He  _ needed  _ more but Patrick was teasing him, licking short licks at his rim, dipping in just the  _ slightest _ , the barest hint of what could be. 

“Fuck, Patrick,” David moaned as Patrick pulled back, just to flatten his tongue and lave over his hole in broad strokes. Patrick let go of his cock and he wanted to snap at him, to tell him to  _ get back to it.  _ But before he could, Patrick’s hand was back and  _ oh _ , his other hand was on his balls. 

The three different sensations were tearing him apart and all he could do was dig his fingers into the plastic and hope that he wasn’t tearing little holes into the protective covering. He wasn’t going to last much longer, but he didn’t know how long they had been going. Time had stopped, they were suspended in some limbo as Patrick speared his tongue into him. 

David moaned, _had_ _been_ moaning, as Patrick focused his palm on the head of his cock, while stroking the base with his other hand. He was panting as Patrick pressed kiss after wet kiss against his hole. He was right there, about to tip over. 

“Come for me, David,” Patrick said, his words muffled as his lips moved against his hole. “Please.”

Patrick breathed in a shuddering breath and blew it out, over David’s hole before spearing his tongue back into him and  _ that was it.  _ He was pushed over the edge, all of the air in his lungs was pushed out with his orgasm. His body was tingling and Patrick worked him through it with his messy hand and  _ fuck.  _

It was so good, borderline too much and then David was waving his hand behind him and Patrick let go of him. He took a second to catch his breath before he let his body slide onto the couch. The towel was bunched up underneath him and it slipped away as he took a shaky step back, until he was standing in front of the couch. 

“Sit,” David said as he manhandled Patrick until he was sitting on the couch, the towel discarded in a gross pile on the ground. 

“There’s more lube packets in my bag,” Patrick said. David kneeled down and sat back on his legs.

“Why do you have lube packets in your bag?” David asked as he scratched light paths up Patrick’s legs. 

“Never know when they’re going to come in handy,” Patrick shrugged before he shivered as David scratched behind his knees. “Are you complaining?”

“Nope,” David leaned forward and trailed his mouth over the inside of Patrick’s thighs. He took a moment to look up at Patrick and take in the scene. 

Patrick’s lips were red and shiny, the blush that dusted over his cheeks had stretched down, reaching past his collarbones and David made it a goal to see how far down that blush could stretch. It would take work, but David was ready to put in the energy. His chest was heaving and David noticed the desperation glinting in Patrick’s eyes. 

“Gonna suck your cock now,” David said right before he licked at the head of Patrick’s cock. 

“Okay, yeah,” Patrick whispered as he tilted his head back, resting it on the couch. 

David took more of him into his mouth and Patrick groaned underneath him. There was a hand teasing at his hairline, right behind his ear and David pulled off with a long lick. 

“Don’t touch my hair,” David snapped as he took hold of Patrick’s wrist and pulled his hand off the side of his face. “I have to go see my family after this and pretend like nothing happened. So don’t fuck up my hair.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Patrick said as he balled his fists at the sides of his hips. 

If he didn’t have to face his family, he would lean into the touch and beg Patrick to pull his hair. 

David ran his hand over Patrick’s dick, his touch soft on Patrick’s velvety skin. He took Patrick back into his mouth and groaned as he worked over him, hollowing his lips as he pulled off, only to loosen his throat to take him deeper. He ran his tongue over what he could, used his hands to make sure that no inch of Patrick was neglected and he focused on taking him apart. 

This is what David loved, throwing himself fully into bringing pleasure to other people. He escaped his own shitty life as he took Patrick deeper and deeper into his throat, Patrick’s cock pushing all David’s negative thoughts out of his head. He didn’t have time to think about Schitt’s Creek and how much he hated it there if he was focusing on not gagging on Patrick’s thick cock. 

It didn’t matter that they were in a back room of a shitty motel, they were floating in the space of David’s mine, just content in the moment. 

Patrick was moaning, his hands fluttering around David’s shoulders as they teased getting close to his hairline, but never touching. David moved one of his hands, roaming it over Patrick’s skin, just to feel his muscles trembling as David took him closer and closer to the edge. 

Patrick was making the most beautiful sounds and when David looked at him, he was shaking apart, his face mirroring the pleasure he was feeling inside and he was beautiful. Levis be damned. 

“I’m so close,” Patrick moaned into the space above them. 

David wasn’t ready for it to end, to be forced to face reality after Patrick came, but he didn’t have it in him to edge Patrick, to make him hold on longer, hold out on that orgasm that Patrick was currently chasing. 

_ Next time.  _

He needed to taste Patrick’s come  _ now.  _

He sucked on the head of Patrick’s cock as he jerked him off quickly, his fingers teasing over what wasn’t in David’s mouth, and then Patrick was coming on his tongue, the bitter taste flooded David’s mouth and he moaned as it seeped into his taste buds. 

It was gross, but David  _ loved it.  _ He loved feeling that  _ completion,  _ the feeling of reaching a goal, of making someone feel good. 

He pulled off Patrick’s sensitive cock with one last kiss to the tip of it. 

“David,” Patrick pulled at his shoulders until he was handling David into a hug which,  _ why?  _ “Don’t want to kiss you with your ass germs in my mouth.”

“Ew!” David pushed himself away in disgust. “Don’t say it like that!”

“How do you want me to say it?” Patrick asked as he chuckled. 

“Not like that!” David shook his head as he started to pull his clothes back on. “Disgusting.”

Patrick was still laughing, which was  _ not  _ the correct thing to do. 

“So when is this happening again?” Patrick asked as he got up and wiped off his hand on the discarded towel.

“What makes you think this is happening again?” David asked. He pulled out his phone from his pants pocket, turned on the camera and tucked stray hairs back into place. 

“Oh, I just,” Patrick shrugged as he began to dress. “We don’t have to, if you’re not interested in some casual, mindblowing sex.”

David twisted a half smile at him. 

“It was good,” David said. Patrick just stared at him. “Well, I am recently unemployed, so I obviously have free time.”

“We’ll play it by ear then,” Patrick said as he grabbed the towel, clapped David on the shoulder and then walked past him. 

“Okay then,” David breathed as he followed Patrick back into the office. 

He was halfway out the door when Patrick stopped him. 

“Hey David?” Patrick said. 

David stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He turned back to look at him. 

“The towels you came in asking for?” Patrick said as he picked up the towels. He rounded the desk and handed them to David. 

“Thanks,” David said as he patted them. “Was going to need them later.”

Patrick chuckled. 

“Goodnight, David.”

“Goodnight, Patrick.”

*

David tapped the edge of his book, his third in the last two weeks, as he read while lounging on his bed, well, tried to. Alexis had been huffing and puffing all day, complaining about her lack of social life in Schitt’s Creek and how she missed parties and it was grating on his nerves. 

For once, David wanted to be alone. 

He had finally gotten over the fact that after a month, his phone was still void of well wishes from old friends. 

He wanted to be alone, to sit in the silence and get over this awkward, transitioning period in his life. His book was also very good and he wanted to finish it.

But he couldn’t. Not with Alexis breathing heavy in his direction. She let out a long, deep sigh and David felt something unhinge inside of him. 

“What?!” David put his book down on his bed. “What?!” 

“What David?” Alexis said as he let her magazine fall down onto her lap. 

“What do you mean what?!” David could hear his voice creeping higher, but he couldn’t relax. Not when she was looking at him with her big blue eyes that spelled mischief. 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” She wiggled her head at him and David’s blood pressure was climbing. 

David bared his teeth at her before he turned back to his book. He went back a page, just for a refresher, but he didn’t get far before the door to his parents room opened and they stepped in. 

Oh how he longed for a thicker door with a lock, and maybe way more meters between his bed and theirs. After walking in on his parents in a  _ compromising  _ situation this morning, he wanted to be as far from them and their marital bed as possible and having to look them in the face  _ right now  _ was not what he wanted to do.

“Kids,” His dad started. David and Alexis both looked up at him, expectant and waiting. “Your mother and I will be out for the evening.”

“Yes, your father and I have been gifted a sojourn at a wondrous chalet and we would be remiss to pass by this opportunity,” His mom said with a flourish of her wrist. “Where we wouldn’t be interrupted by an offspring.”

“Ew!” David grunted. He covered his face with his hands and ignored his phone buzzing underneath his thigh. 

Alexis muttered a  _ ‘so gross’  _ as she pulled at her earlobes and shook her head. 

“We’re actually on our way out,” Johnny said as he looked between the two of them, index fingers on both hands pointing at them. “You’re on your own for dinner.”

“Okay, so you’re just abandoning your children to get murdered at a dingy roadside motel to go to some random cabin in the woods?” David asked as he picked his book back up. 

“Oh, David, don’t be so dramatic,” Moira said as she turned to walk back out the door. “Call 911 if need be, but call them before you call us.”

With that, they went back through the door, closed it behind them and then a few seconds later, they heard the main door to their room open and close. 

“Mkay, David,” Alexis said as she shifted on her bed until she was sitting on the edge. She crossed her legs and reached forward, tapping David right above the edge of his uggs. His legs recoiled on their own, shoes dangerously close to touching the comforter on his bed. 

“What?!” David huffed as he turned the page of his book, back to where he actually left off. 

“Mom and Dad aren’t going to be here tonight,” Alexis said with a big smile. “You know what that means.”

“That they’re not going to be here,” David said as he concentrated on the words in front of him. 

“Yes! We should invite people over,” Alexis was beaming as she waved fingers around and David tried to pretend that they  _ weren’t  _ distracting him from reading. 

“How about, no,” David responded. 

“Just a couple of people!” Alexis moved to sit on his bed and David couldn’t pretend to not be distracted anymore, or that Alexis wasn’t wearing him down the more she asked. “David, I’m dying here. I need to socialize and talk to people that I’m not related to.”

“Fine!” David said as he scooted past her and stood up. “We can do a small game night. Six people. I control the guest list.”

“Yes! David, yes!” Alexis got up and rounded her own bed, threw open her closet and began to shift through her clothes. “Just a small game night, or whatever.”

David almost missed it, her words just barely louder than the unzip of his overnight bag. 

“No! No whatever,” David hissed as he moved to his own wardrobe and pulled out items he would need for the night. “Small game night or nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Alexis said as she pulled out a short black dress. 

David ignored her as he pulled out his pajamas and clothes for tomorrow. 

“Where are you going?” Alexis asked. 

“Mom and Dad are gone for the night, so I’m going to sleep in their room,” David said as he packed his bag. He needed his skin care items, and a game night outfit.

“Even though you know what they do in their bed?” Alexis asked, her voice full of fake sincerity. 

“Fall off a bridge, please,” David said as he shook his head, trying to get that mental picture out of his mind. 

He ignored Alexis as he packed the rest of his bag. He dropped it off in his parents room before he went to the lobby in search of Stevie.

*

“So, you, me, Alexis,” David held up three fingers as he spoke. “We need three more. Do you know if Patrick is busy tonight?”

“Why would I know that?” Stevie asked as she ate a fry. 

“You’re his best friend?” David furrowed his eyebrows. 

“But you’re the one fucking him every chance you get,” Stevie pointed a fry at him. “So I feel like you would know better.”

David blanched at her frank statement. 

“Uh,” David wanted to say something in response, but he couldn’t form words. 

“David!” He looked up to see Alexis approaching their table. She stopped at the end, popped a shoulder and leaned towards them as if she was about to drop the juiciest bit of gossip and David couldn’t deny that he was interested. “I invited Twyla and Mutt, so they will be attending.”

“Who?” David asked.  _ Mutt  _ was not the name of someone who seemed like they would excel at games night. 

“Mutt, the hot guy with the beard that I kissed at that tailgate party we went to our first week here,” Alexis explained. 

He barely remembered that night. It was lost in a haze of alcohol, but he remembered feeling unsettled at the party. More so than at the first one he went to. This one happened before Patrick came back from wherever he was, just a few days after the Roses arrived to Schitt’s Creek, and he was left completely alone while Alexis flirted her way around the party. Stevie had gotten sucked into drinking games with some townies and David was not going anywhere near sloshing beer.

Twyla had been the one to save him when she came around with a lukewarm bottle of vodka and plastic shot glasses and a trash bag hanging off her wrist. The rest of the night was a blur. 

“Why is Twyla coming?” He asked. 

“She’s dating him,” Alexis explained. “Honestly, David, try to keep up.”

He turned to Stevie and rolled his eyes. He flinched as she kicked his shin. He waited until Alexis flounced away to continue. 

“Okay, so that’s five people for sure. I’ll text Patrick to see if he’s free tonight and if he is, then we’ll have three competent people at game night and then it’ll be fine,” David said as he shook his head, his face frozen in terror. 

“Yeah, tell that to your face,” Stevie snided and the social balance in the immediate area was tilted against him and he did not appreciate it. Instead, he pulled out his phone. 

_ Games night tonight at the motel, you free? 6 pm? _

He left his phone unlocked on the table as he picked at his salad. The phone dimmed, just a touch before it lit back up. Stevie raised her eyebrows at him and  _ honestly  _ could people just leave him alone?

_ Promised I’d go to a small business networking event that Ray’s throwing at 6. I can swing by after.  _

David frowned at the screen. 

“Oh yeah, Patrick is going to a business thing tonight,” Stevie said as she picked up her water. He watched her take a swig. 

“You just remembered that?” David asked, his voice flat. 

“Yep!” Stevie put down the glass and grabbed the ketchup bottle. 

Before he could make a snippy comment, his phone lit up again. 

_ Wanna come over once Stevie starts her shift?  _

He could play it coy, wait to respond, pretend to be disinterested, but David was never a man of restraint and he wasn’t going to start that today. 

_ Yes.  _

“I’ve gotta go back to work,” Stevie said as she pushed her plate to David.

“Oh? Do you?” David asked as he helped himself to the fries. 

“You know what, I’m sure if I ask very nicely, Patrick will let me skip today. He does owe me for when I covered him while he visited his parents,” Stevie said. She pulled the plate back towards herself but David shot out a hand and pulled it back towards him. 

“Ugh, just go,” He shooed her away. 

She left the booth with a shake of her head and David waited four minutes before he followed her out, but turned the opposite direction to go to Patrick’s. 

Patrick pulled up just as David was about to walk up the path to the building door. The car door slammed shut and then Patrick was ushering him inside, his hands low on David’s hips as he moved him through the lobby and to the stairs.

David knew the dance, had done it a handful of times since Patrick rimmed him on the sofa in the back office. That was before Stevie walked in on them in a  _ very  _ compromising situation and Patrick had determined they had to keep their most salacious rendezvous to the privacy of Patrick’s home. 

He ran up the stairs, Patrick’s heavy footsteps rushing behind him. He turned around once he got to Patrick’s apartment, and caught him in his arms, right around Patrick’s waist. 

In one smooth motion, David’s hand swooped up Patrick’s back until he was running his fingertips through Patrick’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. 

Patrick’s lips were urgent against his and David was caught between slowing the kiss down, taking his time, and following Patrick’s speed; getting him naked and hard as soon as possible and then fucking him with the same intensity at which Patrick was raking his nails over David’s hips, where he had rucked up David’s sweater to feel skin. 

“Been anxious all day, need you to fuck me,” Patrick murmured as he trailed his lips over the stubble covering David’s jaw. 

That, David understood. He knew the feeling of being so keyed up, utterly unable to take charge of your mind and shift it from your worries, and sometimes, the only way to actually do it, was to get the thoughts banged out of you. To be taken out of your own mind by someone else. 

He kind of wanted to ask Patrick what was wrong, but that wasn’t what they did. What David did. So he was going to do what Patrick asked of him, needed from him. 

David pushed lightly on Patrick’s chest, introducing space between their bodies. Patrick whined at the loss of contact, but David smoothed his hands over Patrick’s chest, down his arms, encircled his wrists and pulled his hands off of him. 

“I need you to open the door,” David murmured.

Patrick stuck out a hand and blindly slapped his key against the doorknob. He sighed as David pressed a kiss to Patrick’s neck. There were multiple  _ clinks  _ of metal on metal and then the door was swinging open. 

David pushed him through the doorway and into the apartment, through the maze of his entryway, past his living room and to his bedroom.

“You want me to fuck you?” David asked in the voice he had perfected. The one that said  _ ‘I’m unaffected by you.’  _

Patrick’s eyes were wide and his pink lips in a perfect circle and  _ he knew.  _

“Yeah,” Patrick breathed back. “Want you to fuck me.”

“How?” David asked as he pushed Patrick’s hands until they were against Patrick’s hips, constricted but in a loose hold. Patrick could end this whenever he wanted. 

“I don’t care. Just need you to fuck me,” Patrick whispered, all teasing and the hint of the game dropped from his voice. David guided him back until his legs hit the end of the bed. 

“Okay,” David breathed as he stepped back. “Sit down.”

Patrick dropped back onto the bed, bouncing slightly. David moved to the chair next to Patrick’s bed so he could pull off his shoes. He undressed himself there and took the time to fold all his clothes neatly.

He liked doing this, drawing out the moment and slowing Patrick down, making him watch and teasing him. Because not being able to touch truly drove Patrick wild and David loved watching Patrick twitch with the effort to not cave and touch David. 

David chose not to think about how wild of a concept that was. That someone would want to touch him badly enough that not being able to would bring them to their knees. He was getting hard at the thought, at the fact that soon Patrick would be begging him for it, for just the chance, the opportunity to run his hands over David’s skin. 

Patrick was already breathing heavy when David settled onto the bed behind him, his back against the metal headboard. 

“Take off your clothes, Patrick,” David said. He watched him get up quickly and pull off his clothes until they were all in a crumpled pile on the floor. 

“Nuh-uh,” David grunted as he shook his head. “Put them away.”

“You just want to objectify me, don’t you?” Patrick asked with a scowl. But his cheeks were pink and there was a soft smile that turned the corner of Patrick’s lips down. “Watch me move naked.”

“Maybe?” David shrugged.

He watched as Patrick picked up the garments with an eye roll and put them in their respective places. The underwear and socks went into the hamper, his jeans draped on the arm of his chair. David watched as Patrick ran a thumb over a small stain on his shirt before he tossed it into his hamper as well. 

This time, when Patrick climbed onto the bed, David didn’t stop him. 

“Come here,” David murmured as he shifted down further onto his back. He pulled at Patrick’s thigh as he moved to straddle David’s thighs. He kept his grip tight. Patrick had once said that sometimes, during sex, he felt like he was floating, like he couldn’t touch onto ground and David had just stared at him, wide eyed. 

Patrick’s skin was soft as David stroked up his thigh, over his hip and back around his waist. Patrick’s eyes were wide as he stared down at David, one hand was braced underneath him, the other was on David’s ribs, heavy and hot in contrast to the chill in the room. 

“Hard and fast?” David asked, his voice loud in the still house. 

“Uh,” Patrick murmured as he lowered himself until he was flush with David. “I, uh.”

David nestled his other hand under Patrick’s jaw and tilted his face up. Patrick’s eyes were wide with anticipation as David leaned in slowly, his mouth  _ so  _ close to Patrick’s.

“What do you want, Patrick?” David asked, his voice whisper quiet. 

“Please just make me feel good?” Patrick replied. His cheeks were dusted with pink and David wanted to bite at the apples of them. 

David hummed as he thumbed at Patrick’s bottom lip before he leaned in closer. 

Patrick whimpered into the kiss as David’s tongue traced along Patrick’s bottom lip, right where his thumb had been, teasing his mouth open. The kiss melded into teeth and tongue until David pulled away to breathe, his hands strong on Patrick’s shoulders as he pushed him down. 

“Can you suck my cock? Get me nice and hard?” David asked. Patrick groaned as he lifted his body and nosed down David’s neck. 

His back arched as Patrick bit at his skin on his way down, his teeth sharp and skidding over his skin as he got closer and closer to David’s dick. 

“David,” Patrick’s breath was hot on David’s abdomen. He could feel Patrick’s tongue teasing the skin around his navel.

“No,” David nudged at Patrick’s cheek. “I don’t like things touching my belly button.”

“Sorry,” Patrick sucked the head of David’s cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he took David’s semi further into his mouth. 

David stretched out, one hand wrapping around the back of his own head, the other tapped at Patrick’s head. Patrick groaned, the vibrations buzzed through David’s cock and zipped up his spine. “You feel how hard you’re making me?”

Patrick pulled off with a groan. His hand worked David over and David sighed as his calloused fingers traced his slit. Patrick’s tongue felt like heaven against the side of his cock, at the base, tracing his perineum and over his balls. David moved his hand from the side of Patrick’s face and gripped the base of his own cock. He squeezed gently before he slapped the tip against Patrick’s parted lips. 

“I love sucking cock,” Patrick sighed, his mouth stretched into a dreamy smile as David swiped his cock against his lips, teasing him, from side to side until Patrick stuck his tongue out. 

The moan Patrick let out once David’s cock was back in his mouth was truly life changing. 

“Yeah,” David groaned. “You’re not bad at it.”

Patrick pulled off with a wet  _ pop!  _

“Not bad?” Patrick scoffed. “I seem to remember when you begged for me to suck your cock the other night. When you kept telling me how good it was before you came.”

David bit back a smirk as Patrick stroked him. He was hard, ready, and itching to fuck into Patrick’s hole. 

“I don’t think I remember that,” David teased as he shifted back up the bed, his cock sliding from Patrick’s grasp. 

Patrick snorted as he sat up. 

“Can you get yourself ready?” David asked as he nodded to the bedside table. Patrick was gorgeous when he touched himself, his body solid and his muscles straining as he stretched to reach behind him to finger himself open. Patrick flushed an exquisite shade of red when he did this and David found it too beautiful to pass up.

He watched as Patrick poured lube onto his fingers, reached back and stretched himself open. He was all gorgeous pale skin and tense veins as he kneeled there, within reaching distance, but David kept his hands to himself. Patrick groaned as his hips bucked; almost tipping himself over onto his front. 

“Easy,” David teased as he placed a steady hand on Patrick’s hip. 

“Teasing me even though you’re making me do all the work,” Patrick grumbled. He sighed as he pulled his fingers out of himself and reached for the towel that David hadn’t noticed was hanging over the headboard. 

David grabbed a condom while Patrick spread the towel out and then David moved Patrick’s hips into position, his body following until Patrick was on his hands and knees. He held his cock right at Patrick’s entrance, teasing the sensitive skin with the tip of his dick. It was a soft press, just enough to get Patrick’s back arching with need. 

He waited until Patrick was shifting back, pressing against him, before he pushed in. Patrick was hot and tight and David groaned at the sensation. Patrick moaned as David fucked into him. The skin of Patrick’s hips was soft under David’s touch, the flesh tantalizing and then David was digging the fingers of one hand into it while he pushed down on Patrick’s lower back gently.

Patrick arched further underneath his touch, whimpering as he dropped down to his elbows. 

“Right there,” Patrick gasped as David angled his hips and fucked him harder. Patrick babbled and David knew his cock was dragging against Patrick’s prostate. 

Patrick’s moans filled his head as he gripped at Patrick’s ass, kneading his skin, pulling at what he could. Patrick was begging him, asking for  _ more, harder, faster.  _

He could do that, could give that to Patrick. He spread his knees, took purchase on the bed and fucked him  _ harder. Faster.  _

“Slap my ass.”

Patrick’s voice cut through the fog in David’s mind.

“What?” David asked as he slowed his hips. 

“Slap my ass. Spank me, please,” Patrick groaned as David’s hips stilled. 

_ “Sometimes I just need a little bit of pain to ground me, bring me back down to earth before I float away and get lost in space.” _

“You want me to spank you?” David asked, his voice high and thin. He hoped he hadn’t misheard, because now that that thought was in his mind, he  _ wanted  _ it. 

“Please,” Patrick’s voice was hoarse and he reached up as soon as David’s hand connected with his pale skin, his own wrapped around the bars of the headboard. Patrick moaned long and low as David spanked his other cheek. “Fuck me.”

The room filled with a litany of  _ fuck me.  _

“Yeah,” David murmured as he moved his hips. Patrick’s hole was tight around him while he shook underneath David’s hands. He fucked him harder, slamming his hips into Patrick’s ass as he spanked him, his hands turning Patrick red.

“Feel so good,” Patrick cried out. One of his hands dislodged itself from the headboard and David watched it disappear underneath his body. 

David could feel his orgasm building, brewing up inside him. He was about to tip over. He needed to come. 

“Fuck, touch yourself,” David panted. “Touch yourself, Patrick. Make yourself come.”

Patrick’s responding groan was loud and broken as he came. David let himself go, let himself follow Patrick as he came. Patrick’s ass was hot underneath his touch and David pulled out as his dick started to soften. 

“David,” Patrick whispered as he lowered himself down until he was flat on the bed. “God, that was good.”

David tied off his condom and tossed it in the general direction of the trashcan; just so he could lower himself onto Patrick and press a quick kiss to his shoulder. He ran a hand up Patrick’s spine and felt his hand shift with the deep breath Patrick let out.

“You feeling better?” David whispered. He pressed a kiss to Patrick’s other shoulder.

“Yeah, thank you,” Patrick murmured, his voice laced with a hint of sleep. David hummed in response. 

“So game night?” David said as he got up, slapping Patrick’s ass one last time. 

“I can swing by after Ray’s thing,” Patrick murmured. He turned his head to watch David get dressed. 

“Can you be a little more specific, though?” David asked. Patrick closed his eyes as he dug his face into his arms. “Ultimate game play is six people and you’re number six, so, I just need to know what I’m working with schedule wise.”

“I don’t, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do,” Patrick said, voice muffled by his arms. 

“Okay, it’s just, I do need you to tell me,” David said as he walked to Patrick’s linen closet. He pulled out a spare towel and used it to clean himself and then Patrick. 

“Okay,” Patrick said and David could tell he was half asleep. 

“Ugh,” David huffed as he began to pull on his clothes. He was tempted to join Patrick in bed, just for a little nap, but he needed to leave. He needed to make sure that Alexis was cleaning her side of the room. He was not about to be embarrassed during his first time hosting a social event in Schitt’s Creek. 

Nope. Not happening. 

He had been so worried about Alexis leaving their room a disaster before the game night, that he hadn’t taken into consideration that the actual game night itself was going to be bad. He had spent too long cutting up strips of white paper from the lobby’s printer, and then even longer rounding up enough pens that actually worked. It was going to be  _ great.  _

Until Alexis messed with his guestlist and now there was a man carrying a keg into his room and Alexis was throwing herself onto strangers and Stevie wasn’t helping even though David knew she had gotten invested in the idea of game night too. Last he saw, she was chugging beer through a funnel while standing on the couch.

He left when Alexis held up a bottle of vodka and yelled  _ “shots!”  _

He closed the door between his parents room and his and pushed a chair until it was against the door. If he couldn’t have the night he had grown to want, then he was going to have the night he had originally planned. His headphones were on, his book was open and he was laid out on the freshly made bed. There was space and it was glorious. 

There were 47 pages left of his book and he was  _ entranced.  _

He turned the page. Then the next, but the haze that had settled in his brain was cut through with the dull scrape of a chair moving on carpet. David sighed as he put his book down immediately, ready to yell at the person until they scurried back into his room. The words died on his tongue as he looked up to see Patrick closing the door and moving the chair back, this time, he tucked it under the doorknob and that would’ve been helpful the first time. 

“Sorry,” Patrick whispered as he sunk onto the bed. 

David moved until he was sitting up against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. 

“How’s game night going?” Patrick asked. David rolled his eyes at the teasing. 

“I’m not going to bother responding to that,” David said. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, looking everywhere besides Patrick, who was staring at him with such pity. It hurt. 

“Stevie mentioned that the night didn’t go according to plan,” Patrick commented.  _ Of course she did.  _ “She accosted me at the door. Gave me a hug and almost started crying?”

Patrick let out a chuckle as he blinked at David. He moved a hand and rested it on David’s ankle. It was warm and heavy and David tilted his head back and blinked back the emotions.

“I’m sorry your game night got ruined,” Patrick said. His thumb stroked the skin of David’s ankle. 

“Thank you,” David whispered. He moved his book onto the nightstand. 

“I know I’m very late,” Patrick said as he laid down across the foot of the bed, his thumb still moving methodically over David’s skin. “But if you have any two-person games, I’d be happy to play with you.”

David’s eyes flickered over to where he knew his Dad had stashed a deck of playing cards. 

“Or we could go and join the party?” Patrick offered. 

“Oh, no,” David shook his head violently. “I literally can not go back in there. I made a fool of myself.”

David moved to get off the bed, but Patrick’s hand fully wrapped around his ankle and David stilled. 

“Or we can make out,” Patrick said as he pulled on David’s ankle, his eyes sparkling.

“This is my parents bedroom. That is disgusting,” David scoffed, but he reached over and twisted his hands in Patrick’s jacket and pulled him closer. 

Patrick’s mouth was a breath away from his when there was a banging on the door. 

“Come play charades!” A voice yelled through the door, the words slurred together and just tapping at the line between comprehensible and  _ what the fuck were they saying _ .? “I NEED YOU!”

Patrick’s head fell forward, landing on David’s shoulder as he chuckled. Patrick’s hands were at David’s hips and  _ godfuckingdammit Stevie!  _

“I think we’re being summoned,” Patrick said before he dislodged himself from David’s hands. 

“I really can’t go in there. I’m so embarrassed,” David groaned as he let his head fall back against the headboard with a  _ thud.  _

“David, they’re all wasted. They don’t remember and won’t care,” Patrick stood up and David could admit that he was cold without the presence of Patrick on top of him. “Let’s go help Stevie.”

David let himself be dragged into the next room with minimal complaining. They’d just have to make out later.

  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lighting in the apartment was dim, the overhead lights were off with lamps lit throughout the living room—a soft glow filtered in through the open french doors to the bedroom. Without the door in the way, David could make out the soft sounds of Dolly Parton playing an autoharp and crooning on about a coat of many colors.

Stupid fucking  _ Stevie.  _

David groaned as he opened the door and walked out into the  _ still-dark  _ outside. Stevie had teased him, had goaded him and now he was going on a  _ turkey shoot _ , which is the last thing he ever wanted to do.

But Stevie had backed him into a corner and he couldn’t not do it. He had to save face after he begged her to kill a bug for him, and the turkey shoot just so happened to be the following day. 

She was already in the parking lot, car in park right outside his room, but still running. The engine was making a weird  _ click-click-click  _ sound and it grated on David’s nerves as he walked to it. 

How the  _ fuck _ did he let Stevie talk him into his. 

He wasn’t sure what part of the day he was least looking forward to: nature, wild animals, or the shooting of the turkeys. No, wait, that choice was easy. The shooting of the turkeys was definitely the worst part. 

“Morning,” Stevie said as he opened the passenger door. He grunted in response and folded himself into the front seat.

It was worse than he was anticipating. The outfit was worse, the smells were worse, the shooting of the turkey was  _ way _ worse than he thought it was going to be—which was saying something because he knew it was going to be awful. David wanted to go home and take a shower and climb into bed and forget the day's events. 

All that stood between him and that, was Stevie getting them home. 

His phone pinged multiple times with text messages once they drove out of the woods. He pulled his phone out and sunk further into his seat. 

“You’re popular,” Stevie deadpanned as she turned onto the freeway. 

“Well, they’re all from Patrick, so,” David said as he unlocked his phone. 

_ Never thought I would say these words to you, but have fun on the turkey shoot. _

_ Oh my god. David, your mom went to the spa with jocelyn. Can’t wait until you see her _

_ Stevie texted me saying that you’ve had a rough day. Want to come over? _

David locked his phone and tucked it in between his thighs. 

“When did you have service to text Patrick?” David asked. He immediately unlocked his phone and texted Patrick back. 

_ Yeah. We’re on our way back to the motel. I’ll come over after I shower.  _

“I had a bar,” Stevie shrugged. “I figured if you saw him tonight, you’d complain about it to him about today and not me.”

David turned in his seat to stare at her. 

“That’s rude,” He scoffed. He turned back to the window and watched as the fields sped by. Some were empty, some had crops he couldn’t name, but they all passed by in a blur of green and brown.

“You’ve been in a good mood lately. Nicer. Mostly,” Stevie said. David turned quickly to face her. 

“What?” David cleared his throat after his voice cracked in surprise. “Are you going to clarify what you mean by that?”

“You’ve been having a lot of sex lately,” Stevie clarified and David raised his eyebrows at her. 

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” David screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. He could feel her eyes on the side of his head. “Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the road?”

“Okay,” Stevie turned back to the road. 

“And yes I have been,” David commented. 

Stevie was smiling when he looked at her. 

“He’s been in a better mood too. More relaxed,” Stevie said. David narrowed his eyes at her. 

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” David shook his head and Stevie shrugged in response. David waited for her to say something else, when she didn’t, he turned back to the passing scenery. 

“I like this for the two of you,” Stevie said as they passed the Schitt’s Creek welcome sign. David ignored her, instead he bit at the inside of his bottom lip and counted the trees until they were home. 

The sun was starting to set as Stevie pulled into the parking lot of the motel.

“Thanks so much for today, it was truly one of the worst experiences of my life,” David said as he opened his door. 

“It’s an annual thing, so feel free to join us next year,” Stevie called after him as he got out of the car. 

“Not happening!” David slammed the door shut before he walked off. 

*

David pulled his phone out as he approached the door to Patrick’s apartment building. 

_ Come on up when you get here. My door is unlocked _

The text had been sent two minutes before and David punched in Patrick’s entry code on the sticky number pad. The buzz was loud as David buzzed him in and David grimaced at the noise. The door gave under his fingers and he took the stairs up to Patrick’s apartment—the elevator was terrifying and he refused to die in it. 

David stopped at Patrick’s door. There was music playing, but David couldn’t tell what it was through the heavy door. He knocked and a muffled voice called out to him. He waited a beat before he turned the knob and pushed the door open. 

The lighting in the apartment was dim, the overhead lights were off with lamps lit throughout the living room—a soft glow filtered in through the open french doors to the bedroom. Without the door in the way, David could make out the soft sounds of Dolly Parton playing an autoharp and crooning on about a coat of many colors. 

Patrick’s love for Dolly Parton had surprised David at first. David had raised his eyebrows at Patrick the first time Patrick played her music in the car. They were driving to Elmdale for a quick dinner and a stay at a competing motel so Patrick could scope it out, when  _ Here You Come Again  _ came on. David hummed along, not thinking twice about it, until  _ Baby I’m Burnin’  _ came on. Then it was  _ Light of a Clear Blue Morning.  _ When David asked, Patrick had shrugged and mentioned how much his mom loved Dolly, how he grew up listening to her music, learning her songs on guitar.

Now, with Patrick’s head peeking over the back of his navy sectional, glowing in the candlelight, David completely understood how Patrick fit in the world of 70’s Dolly Parton, bathed in sweet melodies and soft guitars. 

“Finally. I’ve been missing my country boy,” Patrick breathed as he leaned to the side as David walked up, watching him bookmark his book and set it on the coffee table. “Come here.”

David rounded the end of the couch, stepping around the chaise, and climbed on once he was within Patrick’s reach. 

“I had to take multiple showers to get the  _ hunting  _ stench off my body,” David said as he pulled off his sweater. He draped it over the back of the couch before he crowded into Patrick’s space. “It had literally seeped into my pores.”

“That’s hot,” Patrick breathed as he closed the distance between their mouths, but he paused before they could connect. His lips were right there, so close to David’s. “Except it’s not and I’m very glad that you took multiple showers.”

“Mhm, okay,” David shook his head before he kissed Patrick. “Time to  _ stop  _ talking about the whole turkey thing and to  _ start  _ fucking.”

David pushed Patrick back, following him as he laid him down on the sofa. He had a rough day and he needed to get lost in something that wasn’t the woods and wild animals. He whined when Patrick tilted his head back and cut off the kiss. 

“Wait, did you wear camo?” Patrick asked with a smirk. There were fingers teasing along the hem of David’s t-shirt. “I bet you looked very good in camo.”

David sat back in offence. 

“I look good in everything,” David scoffed. “But yes there was camo and yes it was awful and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say camo when I’m trying to get us both naked.”

“But what if camo does something for me?” Patrick said as he sat up and began to pull off his clothes. David watched him pull off his hoodie, t-shirt and shimmy out of his sweats and pull off his socks. 

“Mkay, you’re doing all the work tonight,” David said as he pushed himself off the couch. 

David smirked as he walked into the bedroom and Patrick followed. 

“Does that mean I get to ride you?” Patrick asked and David really enjoyed the hint of desperation in Patrick’s voice. 

Instead of answering, David sat down on the foot of Patrick’s bed and undid the laces on his shoes. 

“Is that a yes?” Patrick asked as he rounded the bed and pulled a bottle of lube and a condom out of the top drawer of the nightstand. David stayed quiet as he took off the rest of his clothes, laying them over the back of Patrick’s desk chair. 

“Maybe,” David said as he climbed onto the bed, scooting up until he was laying down on the bed, his head on one of Parick’s pillows. 

“Please, David?” Patrick asked, his voice whisper quiet as he raised himself onto the bed. He placed a kiss to David’s jaw, nosed along the bone before he sucked a kiss onto David’s neck. “Can I?”

David pulled at Patrick’s thigh, urging him on top. Patrick’s hair was soft under David’s free hand and David moaned as they rocked together, their cocks growing hard as they moved. There was something familiar in the way Patrick kissed him and it unravelled something in David. He could feel the tension from the day sliding off his shoulders as Patrick dug his fingers into the back of David’s shoulders. 

“I want your cock,” Patrick moaned out as David let go of Patrick’s lips to nip at his ear. “Need it in me. Wanna ride you.”

His hands slid down David’s sides, planted on each side of David’s waist to raise himself off of David. 

“Yeah?” David gasped as Patrick took him in hand. He was hard and Patrick’s hand was just the right amount of tight on him. 

“Yeah,” Patrick let go of David’s cock to run his hands over David’s thighs. “Been thinking about it all day. Need your cock in me.”

“Fuck,” David sat up, hooked his arms around Patrick’s waist and pulled him back onto the bed, rolling them over so David was on top of him. 

He reached for the lube and poured some into his hands and slicked Patrick’s cock with it. Patrick was thick and heavy in his hand and he wanted it in his mouth, but Patrick was grunting like he did when he was close and he wanted to be buried deep in Patrick when he came more than he wanted to have him in his mouth. 

Patrick took him greedily, opening up for him as David teased Patrick’s rim, pushed his finger into him. David watched Patrick arch his back and chase his finger, driving his hips down to get more of David in him. 

“More,” Patrick gasped. 

David pulled his finger out, pressed two in slowly and swallowed hard at the flush that was starting to spread on Patrick’s chest, at the way Patrick groaned and dug his fingers into the bed. 

“More,” Patrick begged. 

Patrick opened up for David quickly, his body taking him in faster than David was prepared to give him. David chased Patrick’s movements like he couldn’t get enough, like if he gave Patrick more, he wouldn’t be able to think about going  _ hunting,  _ or even about life in Schitt’s Creek in general. 

“I need,” Patrick murmured as he reached down to tug on David’s wrist. “Lie down.”

David let Patrick move him, roll the condom over him, slick him up with more lube. Then Patrick was throwing a leg over him, lining David’s cock with his hole, sinking down onto him and David let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Fuck,” David whispered as Patrick began to rock on him, the veins in his arm flexed as Patrick balanced himself using David’s chest. 

“You feel so good,” Patrick groaned as he fucked himself on David. “Your cock feels so good inside me.”

“Yeah?” David asked as he planted his feet on the bed, knocking Patrick forward with his knees. He caught him before their heads could collide. 

“Yeah,” Patrick moaned out. 

David braced himself and fucked up into Patrick, meeting his movements thrust for rock. 

“So, so good,” Patrick whispered, his mouth close enough to David’s ear that David could feel the warmth of Patrick’s breath. 

“Fuck, Patrick,” David gasped. 

All his senses were overloaded with  _ Patrick;  _ with the generic scent of his shampoo, the soft caress of his skin against David’s, his hands running over every inch of David. 

David pulled him in closer, rolled them over and fucked into Patrick, hard. He needed to push these thoughts out of his mind, every conflicting thought needed to be  _ gone.  _

He fucked Patrick harder every time Patrick begged him to, kissed Patrick when David needed to, pulled Patrick’s leg up and over his shoulder. David needed to go deeper, needed to be fully encased in Patrick, wanted to bury and lose himself in Patrick. 

Patrick came messily between them and David followed quickly after, filling the condom.

“Fuck, David,” Patrick whispered as he sprawled out on the bed. David pulled off the condom, tied the end in a half-knot and reached over to toss it into the trash can Patrick kept next to the bed. Patrick’s hands glided up David's sides, his fingertips dug into David’s ribs, drawing a laugh from David. 

“Leave me alone,” David swatted at Patrick’s shoulder as he laid back down. Patrick followed his movements and slid into the space between David’s arm and side. 

David froze. They had never done  _ this  _ before, but on instinct, he pulled Patrick in closer and ran his hand up and over Patrick’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry you went hunting,” Patrick murmured, his breath warm against David’s skin. 

“It was awful,” David confirmed. 

Patrick’s fingers trailed through David’s chest hair, skimming along David’s nipples. 

“Want to watch HGTV and judge people’s homes?” Patrick asked, his fingers paused at the base of David’s throat. 

“Oh my god, yes,” David said as he slid out from Patrick’s grip. “I need a shower though.”

David launched himself out of bed and he hopped in the shower and washed his body quickly, avoiding getting his face under the spray. The day had started off  _ horrible _ , but now David was relaxed, soothed by Patrick’s body above his and he was excited for the rest of the night. 

The bathroom door opened and David ignored the shuffling on the other side of the curtain. Well, he tried to until there was a trickling of something. 

“Oh my god! Are you peeing?!” David yelled out. There was a chuckle and then the flush of the toilet, a slight breeze as the edge of the curtain was ruffled. “Wash your hands before you get anywhere near me!”

“Okay, David,” Patrick said. David rinsed his body off as Patrick washed his hands. 

Patrick slipped into the shower as David was getting ready to step out. 

“You’re not going to help?” Patrick asked as he stepped under the spray as David got out. “Not going to wash my back?”

“No, you get water everywhere,” David said as he pointed at his dry hair. 

“I’m going to find a snack while you shower,” David said as he dried off.

He was scrolling through his phone as he ate out of an open bag of doritos. The tv was already on, but on mute. He didn’t like the hosts of  _ Love It or List It.  _ The slap of Patrick’s feet on the hardwood broke David out of his trance and he couldn’t help but oogle Patrick’s half naked body and the black boxer briefs covering his assets. 

Patrick settled in close and David took the tv off mute and angled the bag towards him. 

David’s eyes fluttered open and he looked around in confusion.  _ House Hunters International  _ was on and Patrick was asleep against him, their bodies sprawled out along the couch. 

“No,” David whispered as he registered their position. “ _ Fuck!” _

David pushed at Patrick until Patrick woke up. 

“What?” Patrick’s voice was groggy and he blinked slowly as David fell off the couch. 

“I’m going home,” David said as he pulled his clothes back on. He sat down to lace his shoes. 

“You’re leaving?” Patrick asked, the confusion was strong in his voice. 

“Uh, yeah,” David said as he stood up. 

The apartment was quiet as they looked at each other. 

“You can stay,” Patrick said and David instantly shook his head. Because no the fuck he could not. They had  _ never  _ done that before.  _ That  _ was too much.  _ That  _ had too many feelings involved and tied to it.

“I don’t think so,” David said as he began to walk to the front door. 

“Oh,” Patrick’s voice was small. “Okay.”

“Yeah, I need to leave,” David had a hand on the doorknob but he couldn’t turn it. 

“Hey,” Patrick murmured. He walked over to where David was frozen. He leaned forward and up and pressed a soft kiss to David’s lips. It was sweet and David was furious at the action. “Thank you for coming over.”

David nodded as he stepped back and turned the knob. 

“Yeah,” David said. 

He walked out the door, down the stairs and didn’t stop until he couldn’t see Patrick’s apartment building. 

“Fuck!” David yelled. It was late, the night was pitch black around him and David truly hated every fiber of his being and the world around him.

*

It was the morning after David fled Patrick’s apartment in a moment of complete and utter panic. David woke up cranky, with the fleeting thought that he’d much, much rather be in Patrick’s bed.

David stared at his phone, his eyes fixed on the date. It’s officially been two full months of living in Schitt’s Creek, of sleeping on a lumpy mattress, of eating mediocre food at the cafe. With each day that passed, David missed his old life more and more. He missed being able to buy his nice skincare and the ability to slather the products on without having to worry about stretching what he had left. He missed the food, the plethora of cuisines that were available right outside his door. 

David’s phone rang, vibrating against the fake wood of the nightstand. He wanted to reach out, see who it was, but instead, he pulled his sheet over his head and settled back into sleep. 

It had been two months since everything he had had been stripped from him and he was starting to think that there was no end in sight.

*

“Your father has been coerced into giving a eulogy,” his mother announced over breakfast. 

“Ew,” Alexis whined next to him. 

“Can we not talk about dead people over breakfast.” David said with a grimace. 

“Here we are!” Twyla said as she walked up, tray in hand. She began placing their plates in front of them. “So, Mr. Rose, I heard you’re giving Carl’s eulogy today. He would’ve loved that.”

David watched his father nod along. “Well, when Bob asked me, I couldn’t say no.”

“Nay for lack of trying,” His mom said as she fished a blueberry out of her fruit cup with her fork. 

“I just know it’s going to be so moving,” Twyla said as she hugged her empty tray to her chest. “We’re all going to miss him so much.”

“Yeah, that Carl was,” His dad paused. David poked his yolk with his fork, frowning at the over- _ hard- _ ness of the yolk. “Special.”

“He really was,” Twyla sighed. “Well, enjoy your breakfast!”

“Hey Twyla, can I get some hot sauce?” David asked before she could walk away. 

“Yeah, sure!”

When she came back, she was holding a bottle of Frank’s Red Hot, which was the furthest thing from  _ hot sauce.  _

He needed to get the  _ fuck  _ out. 

*

“Okay,” David murmured. He looked around his half of the room. “Okay, time to do this.”

He knelt down on the floor and reached under his bed, wrapping his hand around the handle of one of the suitcases he stashed under neath it. He shimmied it out. He needed to rotate out some of his clothing, move some of his in storage clothing into his closet and some of his closet clothing into storage. He lifted his suitcase onto his bed, but before he could open it, there was a scream and then yelling. 

David looked around him, confused as to where the sounds were coming from, but he quickly moved to the window. He peeked out of the blinds and let out a disgusted  _ ugh _ as he saw who was making all the yelling noises. There was a man, a woman and a  _ baby  _ but the baby was making the least amount of noise and David did  _ not  _ think that was possible. He didn’t know any babies, but he knew enough about babies to know that wasn’t common. 

He watched the arguing couple walk up to the office and their voices were muffled once the doors closed behind them. He pulled out his phone. He knew both Stevie and Patrick were working and he had to get the scoop. 

“Oh my god,” David muttered under his breath. He tapped on the message icon and his thumb hovered over his message thread with Stevie. Patrick’s was right under hers. He contemplated texting them individually, but there wasn’t enough time. He created a group chat and texted them quickly. 

_ Omg. The people who checked in look very methy. _

He heard yelling again and then watched them walk towards his room. They stopped right in front of his window, so he dropped the blind he was holding up, just a pinch so he could still watch them. 

“You’re such an asshole!” The woman put the baby carrier on the floor and pushed the man in front of her. “I fucking hate you!”

He watched her storm off, to his left. She stopped and looked around. 

“Our room is the other way!” She yelled before she doubled back and took off towards the other end of the strip. The man picked up the baby and followed her. David waited until their voices disappeared before he pocketed his phone and left to go talk to Stevie and Patrick. 

He opened the office door to silence. Stevie was sitting on the couch, her head in her hands and Patrick was behind the counter, staring at her. 

“Wow, who was that model family?” David asked as he shimmied into the room. Stevie glared at him so he chose to walk over and lean on the desk, far away from the death glare and closer to Patrick who was less likely to turn on him. 

“Those are Stevie’s cousins,” Patrick supplied. David felt his mouth drop in shock. 

“You’re related to them?” David asked. He tried to hide the shock and disgust in his voice, but based on Patrick’s pinch to his arm, he knew he hadn’t succeeded. At all. 

“Unfortunately,” Stevie said as she got up. 

“Why are they staying at the motel?” David asked with trepidation. 

“They’re here for Carl’s funeral,” Stevie said as she walked into the back room. There was some rustling and some swearing and then Stevie was coming back in with a bottle of whiskey and three red solo cups. She poured whiskey into each cup and handed one to David and one to Patrick. “Drink up because it’s going to be a long two nights.”

“Two nights?!” David picked up his cup. 

“You’re at the opposite end of them. You’re fine,” Stevie said as she shot her cup back. She poured more and drank that quickly. “Patrick and I are the ones that are going to have to deal with them.”

Patrick tipped his cup against David’s, then Stevie’s and followed her in drinking. 

“Do we have ice?” Patrick asked with a grimace. 

“Nope.”

David looked into his cup, swirling the contents. Neat liquor was not pleasant, but he drank it anyway. 

“Need to go change some sheets,” Stevie said. She took the bottle with her. 

David turned to Patrick, his eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s fun for us all.”

Patrick dipped his head with a laugh. 

“Poor Stevie,” Patrick said as he stacked his empty cup with David’s. 

“Part of me thinks that she maybe deserves it,” David responded with a shrug. Patrick laughed as he leaned forward.

“C’mere,” Patrick murmured as he reached out, his hand curling into the fabric of David’s short-sleeved button up. David leaned as Patrick pulled and accepted the soft kiss. 

A rolodex in his mind flipped through all the people who could walk in and see them. He pulled away quickly, clearing his throat as Patrick smoothed out the fabric he had been clutching. 

“The Elmdale art house is doing a rom-com marathon this weekend. Wanna go?” Patrick asked. “I know they’re for sure showing Sixteen Candles and Notting Hill.”

David pressed his lips together, biting into them as he thought about how  _ perfect  _ that sounded. 

“Those are great films,” David said instead of giving Patrick an answer. 

“Okay,” Patrick eyed him. “I’ll buy us tickets?”

“Uh,” David looked around the lobby. “I think—I think I’m actually busy this weekend.”

“Oh,” Patrick’s voice was quiet.

David refused to look at him as he took a step back from the desk. It was  _ too much  _ and David was starting to feel things that he wasn’t ready to feel.

“Yeah,” David shrugged as he took a step back. “I’m just going to be busy and I don’t think I’ll be able to go to the movies with you.”

He finally looked up, braving that fucking face. It was what Stevie called his  _ ‘patrick likes you’  _ face; his eyes wide, his smile small but enough to cause that small dimple under the left side of his mouth. That small dimple that if you blinked, you’d miss it, but it was David’s favorite part of Patrick, and he could never resist dipping his tongue into the dip. But he couldn’t right now. 

Not when he was walking the tightrope between casual fuck and something much, much deeper. 

They had been sleeping together for just as long as he’d been in Schitt’s Creek and David had been seeing it a lot during the last few weeks. Their fucking had shifted recently. What started off as desperate, hot, rough sex had transformed into something that was almost comfortable. 

It was terrifying and David was starting to hate himself more and more with each  _ fond  _ and relaxed face Patrick gave him. Patrick was  _ nice  _ and respectful, so far from the asshole David originally thought he was. 

Patrick was nice and David was going to leave soon. Hopefully. And then what? 

David didn’t deserve Patrick. Patrick was too good for the shitty person that David knew he was and David was being crushed under that thought. 

“Okay,” Patrick said, nodding his head slowly. “Okay, some other time? I think they’re doing themed weekends all this month.”

David shook his head as he backed up, walking in the general direction of the door. 

“I’m pretty busy,” David said. He cleared his throat, his cough rough around the lump that was forming. “This is a pretty busy month for me.”

Patrick nodded again, his movements slow and calculated. 

“Next month?” Patrick asked, but his face said he already knew the answer. 

“Also pretty busy,” David said. He bumped into the door, the knob dug into his lower back. “I just have a lot of projects.”

“Okay, David,” Patrick whispered as David slipped through the door. 

David went back to his room, locked the door behind him and dragged the suitcase off his bed. It made a heavy thud as it hit the ground and David climbed into bed, shoes and all. 

*

_ Come help me clean rooms.  _

David grimaced at his phone, the text from Stevie stared at him and he wasn’t sure how he wanted to respond. There were a million appropriate responses but he couldn’t decide on which he liked more.  _ Fuck no  _ or  _ what the fuck why would I do that _ ?

His phone lit up with another text. This time from Patrick. 

_ Hey, can we talk?  _

David’s heart beat faster at the text. No, no, no no no. He didn’t want to talk to Patrick, couldn’t talk to him. 

_ Can’t. I’m helping Stevie.  _

He sent his message before he could think about it. He peeled himself out of his bed, away from his midday nap and into his outside shoes. 

The motel cart was outside, down at the other end of the motel. He scanned the parking lot, didn’t see Patrick’s car and scurried down to the room Stevie was in. 

“Hi,” David said from the doorway. 

“Grab the clean sheets for me?” Stevie asked as she looked up at him from where she was sitting on the ground. 

“One sec,” David said as he walked into the room. The room was trashed and smelled like a melting pot of alcohol soaked carpet and weed. “This room is disgusting.”

“Yeah, it’s going to need a few nights of airing out before any guests can stay in here,” Stevie said. She huddled over her lap and David narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Why are you on the ground?” David asked. He stepped over piles of clothes and  _ things  _ as he made his way to her. 

“Found that,” Stevie said as she motioned to the bed above her. David followed her movements and  _ oh-- _

“Is that?” David asked as he picked a ziploc bag up off the bed. 

“Fuck yeah it is,” Stevie whispered as she help up a freshly rolled joint in triumph. “Found papers too. Well one paper.”

“Fuch yeah,” David gasped as he took the joint from her. “Lighter?”

“On the nightstand.”

“I’m not sitting on the ground,” David said as he grabbed the lighter. 

“Okay. Just, don’t sit on the bed,” Stevie said as she eyed it warily. “I haven’t changed the sheets.”

“Ew!” David let out as he stepped away from the bed. 

“Light it up!” 

*

David was so  _ high.  _ Higher than he’d been in so long. His body felt weightless, but when he tried to move his leg, the limb was too heavy and he gave up, leaning back against the bed in a fit of giggles.

“I think I might’ve forgotten how to move,” David said through a laugh. 

“You just move your body,” Stevie said from the bed. She had discovered a pair of sunglasses and plopped them onto her head with a squeal. “Like this!”

David turned his head to watch her struggle to lift her leg up. 

“You can’t even do it!” David exclaimed. 

“No, I can! I can!” Stevie persisted. Finally she lifted her leg straight up into the air and they both dissolved into giggles.

“Oh!” David noticed the corner of a bag of chips sticking out of a duffel bag. With a big breath, David folded himself over and crawled to the bag. “Doritos!”

He held the bag up and Stevie gasped as she shimmied her body off of the bed. 

“Share please,” Stevie said as she crawled over to join him. She swung her legs around and sat up, but froze. 

“What?” David asked as he pulled the bag open. 

“Do you hear that?” Stevie asked as she put a hand over the bag, blocking David’s hand from going in. 

“No!” David yanked the bag from Stevie’s hand. 

There was the slam of car doors and yelling. 

“Fuck!” Stevie exclaimed as she jumped up, grabbed David’s wrist and began to pull him out of the room, grabbing a six pack off the foot of the bed as they passed it. 

She pulled David around the end of the motel and to the back side of it, collapsing down onto the grass and pulling him down with her. 

He sunk into the ground, the earth pillowed up along the side of his body and David sighed as the earth literally hugged him. He could hear Stevie rustling with the bag and he had half a mind to stop her, but he was too comfortable. He could feel the sleep tugging at his eyes and words bubbling up his throat. 

“I really want to leave Schitt’s Creek,” David said. The rustling stopped. 

“I know,” Stevie responded. 

The sky was so blue, clear except for perfect, fluffy, white clouds. 

“I think Patrick likes me,” David said, the words felt strange on his tongue, but true. 

“He does,” Stevie confirmed. 

David closed his eyes against the soft breeze that tickled his eyelashes. 

“I think I like him,” David said. Those words  _ hurt _ , cut across his tongue and David choked on them. 

There was a noise next to him. David turned his head to look at Stevie who had rolled over to look at him. 

“You do,” Stevie said. 

“I can’t,” David rolled over so he was facing her. “I can’t handle having feelings for someone. I can’t have feelings for him.”

“But you do,” Stevie responded. David nodded. 

“I want to leave Schitt’s Creek more,” David continued. “I’m going to leave Schitt’s Creek, and I’m going to be happy about it and I’m not going to let whatever feelings I have for Patrick make me feel bad.”

Stevie stared at him, her eyes wide and lips drawn into a straight line. 

“Okay.”

“I’m not going to get heartbroken over him,” David said. If only the grass could actually swallow him whole. His voice was weak when he spoke again. “I’m not going to keep seeing him.”

“Well, he’s walking up behind you, so you better rethink that quick,” Stevie said as she sat up, raised her hand at Patrick in a half wave. 

“I’m getting the feeling that there was some weed involved in the two of you laying in the grass,” Patrick called out. David turned his head awkwardly to watch Patrick cross the grass to them. “I’m going to invite myself to partake.”

Stevie shifted and David turned back to watch her reach into her pocket and pull out the bag of pot and a small pipe.

“Come sit down friend,” Stevie gestured to a spot next to them. 

David glared at her as Patrick sat down next to them. Stevie shrugged at him and then they were passing around the pipe, their smoke billowing up from their mouths and getting swept away with the early evening breeze. 

He took a deep breath as he watched Patrick inhale again, balled up his feelings for Patrick as he watched Patrick hold the inhale. When Patrick exhaled, David tried to match it and push the feelings out as he himself exhaled. 

But they just sat in his lungs, a feeling too heavy to breath out.

*

The last 15 minutes had been a whirlwind of activity and  _ talking  _ and when his father left their room, David was stunned into silence as he stared at Alexis, unsure as to what that whole situation was.

“What just happened?” David asked as he ran a finger over his chin. 

“You just got a job planning a surprise birthday party for mom,” Alexis said as she put down her nail file. “Have fun with that while I’m in Chicago.”

David rolled his eyes at her as he got up.

“You do realize you have to go to this party, right?” David said as he rounded her bed to their nightstand. 

“It would just be really tacky to not go when I told Ted that I would go,” Alexis said. 

David grabbed his Moleskine off the table. 

“Mkay, I’ll see you at the party,” David said as he walked out of the room. 

Once he was outside, he looked around and decided to walk into town. He needed to find a venue that he could actually make work with such short notice. The only space that was conceivable was Mutt’s barn and after the awkward tension between him and Alexis at the game night turned party, he was pretty convinced that if Alexis asked, he would let them host it there. 

David didn’t want to know what was going on there between Alexis and Mutt and Ted, Alexis’s boyfriend. It was a weird web of  _ mess _ and he didn’t need that energy anywhere near him. 

He pushed open the door to the general store and sighed in disgust. The whole store was a mismatch gone  _ wrong.  _ David loved a good mixed pattern, could even get behind a purposely not-matching but coordinating furniture set, but the general store was not that. It had food products next to poison and that had to break  _ multiple  _ food laws. 

He needed to find decorations that fit the aesthetic of the barn; which hurt David to think about. But he was David Rose. He was going to figure it out. 

*

“What’re you doing?” David asked as he entered the lobby of the motel. Stevie glanced up at him from her computer screen. 

“I’m working,” Stevie deadpanned back. David watched her click around as he walked up and leaned against the counter. He peered around the edge of the computer. 

“Yeah, you’re very busy,” David teased. “When you’re not as busy, I need you to drive me to Elmdale.”

“I’m working until 6,” Stevie said. David narrowed his eyes at her. 

“You’re playing sudoku and I need a ride to Elmdale to pick up a chocolate ganache torte for my mom’s party,” David explained. 

“I’m working until 6. Ask Patrick for a ride to pick up the cake,” Stevie squinted at the screen, pressed on the ‘6’ key and frowned as the computer beeped at her. 

“First of all, it’s a torte,” David said as he tapped the counter. “Second, I’m trying to take a step back from all of that.”

“Didn’t you guys fuck in the back room last night?” Stevie asked with a head tilt towards the door behind her. 

“No, we only made out.” David explained. “We stopped fucking here after you walked in…”

Stevie glared at him. 

“So clearly the whole not seeing him anymore is going great?” 

David couldn’t read her face. He wanted to lie, but he was already silent for a second too long thinking of an appropriate response. 

“Um,” David shook his head as he tried to think of what to say. “Yeah, each time I see him, I like him more and more and I have so much fun with him. When I’m not with him, I think about him and I’m scared of what’s going on between us.”

Stevie cleared her throat as she eyed him curiously. 

“What if you just embraced what’s going on?” Stevie shrugged as she turned back to her game. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I can do that,” David sighed. “So, a ride? You can ask Patrick if he can come in an hour or two earlier.”

“Yeah, no, I’m working until 6,” Stevie said. 

David pushed himself up to standing and nodded his head. 

“Okay, I’m gathering I won't be able to change your mind,” David said. 

“Nope.”

David wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and twisted his wrist. He slipped his body through the door while he kept his eyes trained on Stevie’s. 

“Thanks so much,” David called out to her. 

“Best wishes!” 

David paused with the door almost closed, opened it back wide and stepped in halfway. 

“Warmest regards!”

He closed the door behind him slowly, so it caught in its latch softly. 

When he got back to his room he pulled his phone out and dialed Patrick’s number, holding his breath as it rang. 

“Hello?” Patrick’s voice was honey in David’s ears. 

“How do you feel about going to a bakery in Elm Dale?” David asked.

“I’ll pick you up in 5.” 

*

“I’m actually leaving!” His mom exclaimed as she took baby steps closer to the door. 

He let out a deep breath as he surveyed the situation. Jocelyn and Ronnie had their backs to the room as they hung up banners, a couple of other people were rearranging furniture and David watched his mom  _ finally  _ walk through the door. 

David threw down his notebook in frustration. He was just trying to do something  _ nice  _ and make something  _ beautiful _ and he felt like it was all slipping through his fingers. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he ignored it, instead he made his way across the room to help Jocelyn, who couldn’t reach to pin the banner as high as they wanted it. 

_ How “black tie” is “black tie”? Trying to figure out what to wear tonight.  _

David rolled his eyes at the text and smirked at the  _ Patrick-ness  _ of it. 

_ It’s black tie. Wear a suit _

_ A nice suit _

David sent back. 

He looked around the barn. It looked as nice as it could, considering the circumstances, which was that it was a  _ barn.  _ He was proud of his work, of the way it had all come together to create something kind of nice. Especially once they turned on all the lights they had strung up. 

He just had to get his mother there. 

Back at the motel, his mother gave him that look that said ‘ _ David, you know that I will not be attending the gala this evening.’  _ And David took a deep breath, ruined the surprise and then went back into his room before his head exploded.

*

David pulled at the cuffs of his suit jacket. The fabric was soft against his skin and he relished in the feeling of it. The suit was just as impeccable as when he first bought it; just about a year and a half ago for a benefit his mom threw at their house in L.A. 

The gravel crunched under his feet as he paced the length of the motel parking lot. They were supposed to be at the barn 15 minutes ago, but his mom was still getting ready. His phone was buzzing with texts from Jocelyn. 

The darkness shifted around him and he turned towards the motel where the door to his parents bedroom opened and his family walked out. They stopped in front of him and then his dad led them to the street where a cab was waiting for them. 

“ _ You look just like your father on the day I married him.” _

David smiled at his mom, the comment bounced around his head as they walked through the barn door, arm in arm. He let her have her moment, taking her hand from his elbow and letting it fall to her side. He stepped away as people came up to wish her a happy birthday, taking his place at the drinks table. 

He poured himself a glass of wine and turned to watch the party. His mom mingled, people drank as they danced and the snack table was kept well stocked. 

“This is the least shitty I’ve ever seen this barn.”

David turned to smirk at Stevie as she stopped next to him. 

“When was the last time you were in this barn?” David asked. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Stevie responded as she shrugged. He turned back to the dance floor and watched as people swayed to the music playing from the bluetooth speaker he borrowed from the high school. He put down his cup on the table behind him. 

“Will you dance with me?” David asked. He held a hand out; Stevie eyed it wearily before she put her cup down next to his. 

“I only dance with strangers in bars, but I guess I’ll make an exception tonight,” Stevie said as she took his hand. 

He led her to the dance floor. 

“So will you tell me about the last time you were in this barn?” David teased.

“Oh god,” Stevie shook her head, but her smile was wide. “So I may have had a threesome with Mutt and Twyla a year ago.”

“Wait, tell me everything,” David pressed and she did. 

Her hand was light on his shoulder and David let himself relax into the touch as she told her about the sordid affair. 

When the song turned to something faster-paced, he let go of her hand. Left her to dance with Twyla as he went back to his drink. The wine bottles were empty so he poured himself a gin and tonic. 

“If I ask nicely, will you make me a drink?”

David rolled his eyes. “Why do people keep sneaking up on me?”

But he pulled a fresh cup off the stack and filled it with ice. 

“It’s how you earn your citizenship in this town,” Patrick replied. David shook his head at him. 

He made their drinks quickly, handing Patrick’s off as soon as the tonic settled. 

“Nice suit,” David motioned at Patrick and the navy suit he was wearing. Patrick looked down, ran a hand down one of the lapels. 

“Thank you,” Patrick beamed at him. “Glad it’s David Rose approved.”

“I mean, I would’ve gone with a different shirt and tie, but that’s me,” David gestured to the white shirt and black tie Patrick was wearing. Patrick cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“What makes it different than what you’re wearing?” Patrick asked. He took a sip of his drink, but David could see the smirk forming behind the edge of his cup. 

David looked down at his own white shirt and black tie. 

“The chain, obviously,” David said as he tapped on the silver chain tucked underneath his tie. “I don’t have enough time tonight to take a deep dive into the art of pairing a tie and shirt combination to a suit.”

“Yeah, I’ll take a raincheck on that,” Patrick said. 

They stood in silence. David wasn’t sure what to say. He had tried to distance himself from Patrick, but nothing had worked. Patrick was a magnet, pulling him back in and holding him tight.

David let him wander off. Alexis was standing across the dancefloor, talking to Mutt and he watched her dip her head, shake it lightly. It was her classic move. Mutt followed every movement with wide eyes. David could see him getting sucked in, but then people next to them were shifting and Ted was there. 

He averted his gaze, settling on where Stevie was dancing with Twyla, his parents still slow dancing past them. He joined Patrick at the snack table. 

“Is this Heather’s cheese?” Patrick asked as he spread some chevre on a piece of bread. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” David shook his head as he put his cup down. “Ronnie helped with the menu. I couldn’t go back to the grocery store after the whole job thing and I don’t have a car.”

“Have you tried it?” Patrick asked once he swallowed his bite. 

“No. This isn’t really an eating suit,” David responded. The drycleaning bill for it would be more money than David had, so David had steered clear of actually eating tonight. 

“Here,” Patrick said as he cut one of the pieces of bread into thirds. “I’ll make you a clean bite.”

David wanted to protest but Patrick was smearing the correct amount of chevre onto the bread and he couldn’t refuse such craftsmanship. David accepted the bite and moaned at the hint of honey. 

“That’s fucking good,” David murmured around the bread. 

“Chew with your mouth closed,” Patrick chastised. “Want another bite?”

“Mhm. Yes please,” David said as he took another sip of his drink. 

They stood at the table, with Patrick preparing bite sized pieces for David and a lot less dainty bites for himself, for a while, until they both couldn’t snack anymore. Their cups were empty and before David could offer Patrick a refill, Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers began to play. 

“Will you dance with me?”

David knew this wasn’t going to help the whole feelings thing, but he took Patrick’s outstretched hand and let him lead him to the dancefloor. Some of the party-goers had left already, some had sat down, some were still dancing. His parents were back in each other’s arms after having taken a break during the faster songs to dance around the dance floor separately. 

On instinct, David’s fingers trailed up Patrick’s arm to tease at his shoulder, the other wrapped itself in Patrick’s hand. Their bodies came together as Patrick pulled him in closer. 

“Your mom looks really happy,” Patrick murmured. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen her smile.”

“Well, she loves an event,” David responded. 

He was wading in dangerous territory as he relaxed against Patrick, letting him lead them around their area of the dancefloor. They swayed together in silence, Patrick’s hand open and heavy on David’s lower back. 

When the song was over, there was a hand on his shoulder. 

“May I cut in? I’m thinking it’s time my son danced with me,” his mom said as he pulled himself from Patrick’s embrace. 

“Of course,” Patrick said as he stepped back, his eyes locked with David’s. “I’m just going to go get another drink.”

David watched Patrick, over his mother’s shoulder, make himself a fresh drink and then move to sit with Stevie and Twyla, before pulling his focus back to his mother.

*

“I can’t believe we have to make our own breakfast today,” Alexis complained as she pulled on her shoes. 

“At least it’s just breakfast. Scrambled eggs are easy,” David said as he put his phone in his pocket. “Could you imagine if they tried to make us cook dinner? That’d be a travesty.”

“Oh my god,” Alexis huffed as she stood up. Together they walked into their parents bedroom. 

Alexis cooked as David set up their places at the small circular table, working around his mother, who hadn’t gotten up. 

The room filled with the smell of breakfast sausages as they cooked alongside the eggs. The plates already had buttered slices of toast and David was moving one loaded dish to the table when the door swung open and his dad fell through, panting as he bent over. 

“We’re getting out!” He exclaimed, his words broken with labored breaths. “We’re finally getting out!”

It took a moment but then David was hit with the shock that they were  _ leaving.  _ Alexis jumped up and down, wrapping her arms around David. His mother was on the floor, crying and they were  _ getting out.  _

“We have a buyer. I’m meeting with them today to get everything signed. I’m hoping to have a check in my hand by evening time,” his dad said as he wrapped his wife in an embrace. 

“I have to pack,” David said as he moved to the table, leaving behind breakfast and Alexis who was talking about her  _ suitycases.  _

He pulled out his suitcases and the boxes he used to move his clothes to Schitt’s Creek. If he moved quickly and efficiently, he could be packed by mid-afternoon. He built his boxes, fumbling through the actions with his excitement and began to hang the more delicate pieces in his wardrobe. He didn’t want to exhaust his new funds on dry cleaning. 

David slowed down on his packing once Alexis was back in their room and he had to work around her. 

She punched at the clothes in her suitcase and he watched in disgust as she closed the lid and pushed the clothes in through the zipper. 

“I just can’t wait until I’m on a beach,” She said as she turned around to grab stuff off the desk. 

“What?” David froze. He barely heard the words as she said something about St. Barts with friends. 

“I was kind of thinking that we could get a two bedroom in Manhattan,” David offered. 

“Ew, no,” Alexis said as she moved her suitcase onto the ground. 

David turned from her to fold the shirt he was holding as he watched his plan crumble in front of his eyes. Even if they were able to find a buyer willing to pay the asking price, the money wasn’t going to be enough for him to move, support himself and then restart his galley. Not in New York. And that was the easiest of his escape plans.

“I’ll be back,” David said as he put the shirt down on his bed, grabbed his phone and left his room. 

The anxiety was climbing up his spine and he needed a break, time to regroup, so he could figure out how to make it work. Stevie’s car was in the parking lot, Patrick’s nowhere to be found. He pulled out his phone and clicked around until he was on Patrick’s contact information. 

_ “Hey.” _

David breathed out a sigh of relief when Patrick picked up. 

“You’re off today, right?” David asked as he began to cross the parking lot. 

_ “Yeah. What’s up? Wanna come over?”  _

“I’m already on my way,” David said. Patrick’s was a short walk away, even shorter when his feet were moving as fast as his heart was beating. 

_ “See you soon.”  _

David gripped the phone, holding it down at his side once Patrick hung up. He waved to the townsfolk that called out to him, but didn’t stop to talk to any of them. He could see Patrick’s apartment building at the end of the block and he followed it’s image like a fisherman out at sea, using a lighthouse to guide them back to shore.

Patrick buzzed him in and he took the stairs two at a time until he was on Patrick’s floor. 

“Come in!” Patrick called out as soon as David knocked. He was in the kitchen, moving food into tupperware. “Want something to eat?”

“No,” David said as he crossed the space. He pushed a hand against Patrick’s hip until Patrick was turning and David was crowding him against the counter, kissing him as soon as he physically could. 

Patrick moaned against his mouth as David tilted his jaw up, his fingers tracing along his stubble. Patrick held onto David’s hips as David led him through the apartment and into his bedroom, their mouths connected in a heated kiss the entire way. David could map out paths between rooms in this apartment in his sleep. 

“Fuck,” Patrick whispered as David nipped down his neck, his fingers working the buttons free along the front of Patrick’s shirt. 

“We’re going to,” David spoke, his lips dragging along Patrick’s collarbone as he pushed the shirt down Patrick’s arms. 

The rest of their clothes came off in a flurry of wanting movements until David was pushing at Patrick’s shoulders until Patrick fell back onto his bed. David followed his movements until they were situated in the middle of the bed. 

Patrick whined as David broke the kiss to open the drawer of the nightstand. He pulled out a condom and lube and held onto them as he kissed and nipped his way down Patrick’s front until he took his cock into his mouth. Patrick moaned as David licked along his cock, his tongue gliding over the velvety skin. 

He was going to miss this. 

He was mouthing at Patrick’s balls when he flicked the lube open with one hand. David sat up so he could pour some onto his fingers, barely remembering to close the cap before he threw it back onto the bed and took Patrick back into his mouth. He pressed a finger against Patrick’s rim and took him deep into his throat as he fucked into Patrick with his finger. 

David sucked on the head of his cock, his tongue flickering over the tip as he pulled his finger out and pressed two in. Patrick opened sweetly under his touch, just like he had every time they’d fucked before this. And now, on their last time, he was opening just the same as he had every other time. Patrick was dependable and David was going to miss that steady rock he had come to find in him. 

By the time he pulled out his fingers and opened the condom packet with his teeth, Patrick was shaking underneath him, begging for it, just like David loved. It was almost as if he knew this was their last time and was giving David everything he knew David enjoyed. It was the begging, the wide open knees that exposed him so beautifully, the wandering hands that touched any part of David that he could reach, as if he  _ needed  _ to be touching David. The affection was there and David was choking on it as he rolled the condom over himself. 

He smoothed lube over his sheathed dick and pressed into Patrick in a slow, smooth motion. 

“Yes!” Patrick gasped as David arranged their hips while he leaned forward until he was covering Patrick’s body with his own, his face tucked into Patrick’s neck. 

He fucked him slow and smooth, his cock hitting Patrick deep inside. 

“David,” Patrick gasped as he dug a hand into David’s back, the other twisting into David’s hair. 

David whined as Patrick’s closed fist pulled at his locks. 

“God, Patrick,” David cursed as their slick bodies moved together, rocking towards orgasm, in sync with each other. 

He shifted until there was just enough room for David to snake a hand between their bodies to pull on Patrick’s cock. David was leaning haphazardly on one arm and Patrick pressed steadying hands to David’s body, helping hold him up enough so he could jerk off Patrick as he fucked into him, his cock dragging against Patrick’s prostate. 

“I’m so close. Gonna come,” Patrick gasped out into the space between them. 

“Do it,” David begged. “Come for me, Patrick. Please.”

Patrick shot ribbons of come between them with a groan and David followed quickly. He held Patrick through their aftershocks, and kissed him until their bodies stopped floating and fell back into reality. When they did, he pulled out, holding the condom until he was free. He tied it off, threw it into the trashcan and pulled Patrick into his side, kissing him until Patrick melted into him. 

He felt Patrick let out a little gasp as David licked into his mouth. He broke off the kiss to draw in a shaky breath and pressed their foreheads together. Patrick’s eyes were bright and wide, lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed and David’s breath hitched at how  _ beautiful _ Patrick was. 

He kissed him again, because he could. Because he was so far gone for Patrick and he wasn’t going to have more time to fall deeper into him. 

Starting tomorrow, David was going to be nursing himself through a heartbreak while returning to the life he had been homesick for. He accepted the fact that he couldn’t have it all, so he kissed Patrick again. 

And again. Until they were both gasping and Patrick was growing hard beneath him. He worked Patrick through another orgasm, this one less powerful than the one before. 

David wiped his hand off on Patrick’s side as he kissed him again. Patrick’s hands were sweeping up and down David’s back and David let himself imagine a life where he got to have it all, Patrick and the life he wanted to live. 

But they didn’t go together. Not at all. There was no way that Patrick, wholesome, sassy, salt-of-the-earth Patrick, fit into that life. David was going to miss him, so, so fucking much. He was leaving  _ this  _ to go back to a life where he was alone and aching for the company of others. 

He was breathless when he pulled away and fought back the emotions that were threatening to burst from him. 

“I can’t stay,” David started. Patrick cut him off with a kiss and David sunk back into it, letting his body fall flush against Patrick’s come coated chest. “I have to go help my mom with something.”

“Okay,” Patrick breathed as David kissed him again. 

“Can I shower real quick? I’m now covered in your come,” David teased. 

Patrick laughed as he pushed David off of him. 

“Yeah,” Patrick said as he got up. 

After their shower, David got dressed quickly and kissed Patrick as he pulled him to the front door. 

“Enjoy your day off,” David said before he kissed Patrick again. 

“I will,” Patrick smiled a crooked smile at him. “Gonna put my phone on do not disturb and read a book for a bit.”

“Sounds like a plan,” David said as he stepped out of the way to open the door. 

He paused in the doorway before he leaned back in and pressed a soft kiss to Patrick’s lips, his hands cradling his jaw. He held Patrick in place when he pulled away, taking a second to memorize how he looked, fucked out and sleepy and kissed beyond repair. 

“I’ll see you later, David,” Patrick laughed as he pushed David away. “Go help your mom.”

David let go of Patrick and stepped fully through the doorway.

“Goodbye, Patrick,” David said. He bit back a frown and tapped on the door. 

“Okay, David,” Patrick chuckled as he shook his head.

David let Patrick close the door softly and he held himself together until he was outside, the door to the building slamming shut behind him. He took the long way back to the motel, avoiding as many people as possible while he fought back the tears. 

*

He was fully packed and loading his stuff onto the back of Roland’s truck. He was the only one that was finished. Half of Alexis’ stuff was still littering the floor of their room. His mother and father were off for dinner at Jocelyn and Roland’s house, one last meal before the deed was signed and official and his parents would transfer him his portion of the money as soon as the check was cashed. 

David huffed as he lifted one of his heavier suitcases onto the bed of the truck.

“Are you stealing Roland’s truck?”

He turned around to see Stevie staring at him. 

“Well it’s not a Tesla, but it’ll get the job done,” David said as he folded his arms in front of his chest. 

“So, you’re leaving?” Stevie asked as she moved to lean against the grimey back door of the truck.

“Yep,” David confirmed. 

“You wanted to see me?” Stevie asked. “I got your text.”

“Yeah,” David took a deep breath. “What if you came with me to New York?”

Stevie took a step away from him. “What?”

“Yeah, I found a nice two bedroom in the East Village,” David shrugged. “It could be fun.”

Stevie turned to look at the motel.

“I can’t do that,” Stevie said. 

“Sure you can--”

“I have the motel,” Stevie cut him off. 

“Patrick could take care of the motel,” David reasoned. 

“I like having the motel,” Stevie said. “What would I even do in New York?”

“Well, you just watch a season of Girls and do the exact opposite,” David said with a slight eye roll. 

He wasn’t surprised by the turn their conversation took, but he couldn’t help the flare of sadness at the rejection. Stevie was his only friend, maybe ever, and he was never going to see her again. And she was actively deciding to stay  _ here _ , rather than go to one of the most magical places on earth with him. 

“I’m not going,” Stevie said. 

“I understand,” David nodded as he relaxed his arms and then lifted another box onto the bed. He paused once the box was stable and tucked in with the others. 

Stevie was staring at him. David bit his lip and then the emotions were back. 

“Thank you, for everything,” David took a deep breath. “You’ve made my life here survivable.”

Stevie choked back a laugh. 

“You’ve been one of my only friends and it means a lot,” David continued. “I’ll remember you fondly.”

“Likewise,” Stevie responded. She dug her toe into the grass before she looked up at him. “Does Patrick know?”

“No,” David breathed out. “I didn’t tell him. He’ll find out soon and by the time he realizes and hates me, I’ll be very far away.”

“That’s not fair to him,” Stevie said. 

“Well, life’s not fair,” David spoke past the lump in his throat. “I couldn’t do that. Say goodbye.”

“Okay,” Stevie’s voice was small. She nodded as she began to back away from the truck. “Well, best wishes.”

David felt the corner of his lips twitch. 

“Warmest regards.”

Stevie left him standing there alone to finish packing up the truck. 

If he was going to New York alone, he was going to need more money. 

After the car was loaded, he took a deep breath and walked to the Schitt house. He knocked on the front door and in a flurry of movements, he was standing in front of his dad and asking for a 50% cut of the check. 

“No!” His dad said as his eyebrows furrowed into their  _ ‘disappointed’  _ v-shape. 

“Well, since I’m the owner of the town, I should get more,” David argued as his dad shook his head. “I need more money if I’m going to New York alone.”

“He hasn’t even signed them yet!” His dad hissed. 

“Okay but I’m in need!”

His dad argued with him then excused himself back to dinner. 

David left in a huff and slammed the door shut behind him. 

“Fine!” David cried out as he began the quick walk back to the motel. 

He didn’t need Alexis, or Stevie, or the extra money. He could fucking make it on his own. He was getting  _ out.  _ With or without anyone else. 

He could do it. He was  _ going  _ to do it.

The sun was starting to set as he got in the truck. He was going to New York, no matter what. He turned on the car and felt his shoulders relax as it started on it’s second try. 

David pulled the motel out of the parking lot and turned up the volume on the radio as he drove, the tears began to build in his eyes as Live Again by Irma Thomas came on. He passed the town sign, the words backwards in his rearview mirror. 

He let himself cry as the weight of what he’d just done enveloped him. 

He was on his own with just an old, ratty truck, boxes of clothes and a cellphone that he forgot to charge before he got in the car. 

He wasn’t going to be alright. 

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He carefully stepped through the field, placing his feet where there were already footprints pressed into the compact soil. Patrick met him at the nearest gate and David stopped in front of him. He couldn’t help but twist his hands together at the look on Patrick’s face, concerned and fragile as he took David in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all are staying safe and doing what you can to keep yourself happy and healthy. 
> 
> that includes mentally. it's a very hard time right now and we're all feeling the strain. do what you can.

David left Schitt’s Creek 2 days ago, a full 48 hours ago. The truck he was driving broke down somewhere past Elmdale more than 40 hours ago. He hadn’t gotten far, at all, before the truck started shaking and David pulled it over to a dirt road off of the highway. It was too dark for him to walk anywhere, so he locked the doors and slept in the truck, curled up uncomfortably across the front bench seat.

In the morning, he walked to a farm a bit down the path with a dead cellphone, no money and a suitcase full of his favorite clothes. There was a group of people outside of the house wearing funny clothing and they all turned to look at him as he walked up. 

When he told them he was stranded, they welcomed him into their home with open arms, led him to the bathroom and showed him how to use the bath. 

Now, over a full day later, they were less gracious than at the beginning and David was itching to find a way back home to Schitt’s Creek. Except they made really good bread and butter and David wasn’t ready to say goodbye to that yet. So really, he was torn.

He followed Sarah to the field where she was doing something to the plants. David didn’t really know what she was doing. While he was stuck there, he was determined to get some vitamin D, enjoy the simple things in life and go through an emotional transformation—like a poor version of a retreat. He was holding the pitchfork Sarah had brought out and the sun was shining too brightly, so he pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket, plopped them onto his face and pulled the hood up onto his head to protect the back of his neck. 

David was gazing off into the distance, his brain dancing around the last few days, when he felt his heart drop into his stomach. A familiar gray sedan was pulling up the house, a cloud of dirt trailing behind it. 

“Fuck,” David whispered. 

“Language,” Sarah chided him. 

“Sorry.”

He watched as Patrick stepped out of the car and looked around, freezing as he caught sight of David. 

“David!” 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Patrick stopped at the wood fence that lined the field, his hands on the top rung as he peered at David. 

“What?” David called out. 

“I came to find you! No one’s heard from you and we got scared,” Patrick called back.

“Who is we? You’re alone!” David was sweating under his mohair sweater, but he refused to get up and move closer to Patrick. He was  _ very  _ aware of the situation he left Patrick in before he left. “Also! I texted Alexis!”

“David, can you come here so we can talk?” Patrick asked, the desperation was evident in his voice. 

“Sorry, I’m really busy helping,” David called out as he waved the heavy pitchfork as well as he could. 

“There’s a bug on your dress,” Sarah said and David jumped up in horror. “Go talk to him so you can go home.”

“Okay,” David breathed as he laid the pitchfork down on the dirt. 

He carefully stepped through the field, placing his feet where there were already footprints pressed into the compact soil. Patrick met him at the nearest gate and David stopped in front of him. He couldn’t help but twist his hands together at the look on Patrick’s face, concerned and fragile as he took in David. 

“Let’s go see what’s wrong with the truck so you can drive home,” Patrick said as he turned back to his car. He opened his door silently and got inside. David waited a second as he contemplated whether to go with Patrick or just live the rest of his life on an Amish farm in the middle of nowhere. 

He got in the car. 

Patrick turned it around and drove back to where David left the truck. David wanted to say something, but each time he tried, the words died on his tongue with each clench of Patrick’s jaw once he realized David was going to say something. 

He pulled the car up in front of the truck and David followed him out and stood to the side as Patrick sat in the driver seat and turned the car on. 

“You just ran out of gas,” Patrick said once he was out of the seat. “I’ll drive you to a gas station. They should sell those canisters for us to bring gas back in.”

“Okay, thank you,” David said. Patrick stopped in between his car and the truck and turned to look at David. 

“I--” Patrick cut himself off with the shake of his head. “I’m so mad at you. Stevie and I have been worried sick. We haven’t heard from you. Roland’s truck barely makes it to Elmdale on a good day.”

“I sent a text to Alexis after the car broke down and then my phone died,” David jumped in to say. “I was just waiting for them to come get me.”

“Yeah, well,” Patrick threw his hands up in the air. “Just, get in the car.”

Patrick set up the GPS on his phone to the nearest gas station while David plugged his phone in to charge. They rode in relative silence, the only noise coming from siri as she navigated them through the country roads. David picked at the strings hanging from the rip at his knee, pulling at them as he tucked others in between the fabric and his skin. 

“We should talk,” David heard himself say. He looked to Patrick whose eyes were fixed on the road in front of them with a hard stare. “Patrick.”

“You want to talk now that you’re not leaving?” Patrick asked, a hard edge to his voice. He glanced over quickly, laughing bitterly at the confusion David knew was etched into his own face. “The deal fell through. The guy had a stroke, or heart attack, not sure on the details. But he’s in a coma.”

“Oh,” David said as he turned to look at the window, watching the fields pass by in a blur. He felt his heart slowly sinking into his stomach. At least this despair wasn’t as heavy as when he first was ripped from his home. 

Of course it fell through. 

At least he didn’t have to worry about struggling in New York. 

“You knew you were leaving, David, and you came to my apartment and fucked me. You fucked me knowing that I had feelings for you and you didn’t say anything!” Patrick pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. “You fucked me and held me. Kissed me over and over. Let me shower with you and then kissed me at my front door and told me goodbye and didn’t think to tell me that you were fucking leaving. Actually leaving.”

David bit his lip as he turned to stare at Patrick, his heart breaking at the tears that were falling down Patrick’s face. 

“You knew,” Patrick gasped. “And then you tried to take Stevie with you. Were you trying to fuck me over as royally as possible? Did you not stop to think about if she had said yes, what you were leaving me with? A fucking broken heart and a business that I can’t run by myself? Do you know how hard we’ve been working at making that business not a failure?”

He had thought that leaving Patrick the other afternoon had hurt, it didn’t have anything on this moment. 

“I just,” Patrick took in a shaky breath as he wiped at the tears on his face. “It was a really shitty thing for you to do.”

“I know, Patrick,” David placed a hand on Patrick’s arm, only to have it shaken off. 

Patrick tilted his head back, pushed it into the headrest behind him. 

“I’m so angry at you and I’m even angrier that after what happened, I still felt the need to drive and make sure that you weren’t dead on the side of the road,” Patrick shook his head as he took the car out of park. 

“Thank you, Patrick,” David said as Patrick pulled back onto the road. “You didn’t have to, but I appreciate that you did.”

“You’re under my skin, David Rose,” Patrick said as he turned right onto a slightly more polished street. David could see the marquee for the gas station in the distance. “Just, promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

David would give him anything he wanted. 

“Just, leave me alone for a bit? After this. I need time to get over you. Don’t approach me for sex, or friendship, or even towels.” Patrick shook his head. The gas station was approaching too fast for David’s liking. “I need you to do that for me.”

“Okay,” David’s voice caught in his throat. “Okay.”

David had lied to himself. This hurt the most. 

*

He was back to his normal routine, doing nothing as the time passed, listening to Alexis talk at him about her boy troubles and bothering Stevie when Patrick wasn’t bothering her. It was draining and he spent more time than not laying across his bed reading. He was starting to make his way through the motel’s limited library, had even resorted to borrowing Stevie’s shitty mysteries and was resigned to finding a way to Elmdale to get a library card. 

David hadn’t spoken to Patrick in weeks, not since Patrick paid for his gas and helped him get back on the road. Patrick had asked him not to and David would respect that. 

He didn’t reach out to him after his family acted like he hadn’t been missing and Stevie played it coy by saying she hadn’t missed him, but was glad he wasn’t murdered by a vagrant. He didn’t reach out after he walked in on Alexis and Mutt fooling around in the motel and Stevie wouldn’t answer her phone and Patrick was the only one at the motel who would understand the horror. 

When Roland asked him to help find a classy two-piece for Jocelyn so they could role play  _ The Devil Wears Prada  _ with Jocelyn as Meryl _ ,  _ David didn’t reach out. Even though Patrick was the only one David  _ wanted _ to tell, because Patrick would laugh at the events that occured while still being the appropriate level of terrified. 

David missed him. And now he wasn’t afraid to tell himself that he had been wrong about the distance he kept between him and Patrick, because it turned out, there was never really as much distance as David thought. He wishes he could go back in time and tell himself to fuck it, enjoy the moment, feel the things he was feeling for Patrick and just say  _ goodbye,  _ for real. 

But he can’t. 

Instead he sees an ad for a brand consultant for a boutique in Elmdale and annoys Stevie until she agrees to drive him there. When they stop across the street, David’s jaw drops and he flushes in embarrassment. 

“I can’t go in there,” David says in horror. 

“I drove you here, so you’re going in,” Stevie said as she lowered the windows. She turned off the car, tilted her seat back and pulled a book out of her bag. “Go, I’ll wait here.”

“No, you don’t understand. I came here with Roland to find clothes for Jocelyn,” David continued even though Stevie raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to say something. “And it is truly horrific in there.”

“You’re going.”

She opened her book.

“I told the owner that she sold skanky clothing,” David raised his hands to grasp at the door. 

“You better go apologize then,” Stevie murmured as she turned the page. 

“Ugh!” David huffed but got out of the car. 

He fumbled his way through an interview as he tried to explain to Wendy, the owner, why she should hire him. She seemed skeptical, but agreed to let him work the floor for a bit.

David was in the middle of trying to talk a customer out of buying a velour tube dress that was a size too small when Stevie came in. He excused himself by pushing other options into the woman’s hands and redirecting her in the direction of the dressing rooms before he faced Stevie. 

“I’ve been waiting a very long time,” Stevie said, the snark ever present. 

“I just have to make a sale and then I’ll get the job and we can leave,” David explained as he picked a blouse off the rack closest to them and pushed it into her arms. “Just buy this and then we can leave.”

“Is this my color though?” Stevie said as she held the half shirt, half lingerie item up to her neck. 

“Definitely,” David nodded, his eyes wide as he stared at the cheetah print fabric. “There’s actually a two-for-one special on that item right now.”

“Great,” Stevie said as he took another one off the rack. “I can have one to wear when I check in morning guests and then one for evening guests.”

“Perfect,” David said through a grimace as he led her to the registers. “Let me ring that up for you.”

David stared at the machine, his finger hovering over the screen as he tried to figure out how to use it. 

“Here David, I’ll ring that up for you,” Wendy said as she gently pushed David out of the way. “Consider yourself hired.”

“You’re going to love these,” Wendy turned to Stevie. “These really highlight the frame in a seductive way.”

Stevie nodded as she eyed David wearily. 

At home, Stevie threw the receipt at David after she read the  _ “no refunds”  _ portion under the transaction. 

“I expect you to pay me back,” Stevie said as she walked out of his room. 

*

David was gifted with free reign at the Blouse Barn by Wendy when her marriage started to fall apart and she couldn’t focus on the store long enough to make any sort of decision. With a credit card paid for by the store, David was beginning to shift the aesthetic of the store to fit his monochromatic taste, and had gotten a few items for himself, just to try out for the store. 

Everyone needed new bedding periodically, so it just seemed like a great venture for the business. 

He smoothed his hands over the new pillowcase, the white was stark against the black lining and David felt peace in his soul for the first time in a while as he took in his new bedding. The bed was still the same, lumpy and old, but at least the sheets were new, clean, crisp and not disgusting with the permanent stench of cigarettes. 

“What’s this?” 

David turned around to face his dad standing in the doorway connecting their rooms. 

“It’s new bedding that I’m test driving for the store,” David said. He grabbed the plastic wrappers that the sheets and duvet came in and the shipping box that included new towels. 

“How are you paying for this? These look expensive and you only work part time,” His dad commented. 

“Oh, I’m not paying for them,” David commented. “They’re a write-off.”

“And those?” 

“Towels I’m testing for the store,” David held his arms out as he waved the towels at his dad. “Now are you done? 

“It seems like you’re testing a lot of things for the store,” Johnny’s eyebrows knitted in concern as David pulled items from the box. “Are you also writing off a lamp?”

David looked down at the heavy lamp in his hands. 

“Yeah,” David said, his voice breathy from exertion from unpacking the box. “We’re thinking about adding a home section.”

“Son, this isn’t a write-off!” 

His dad’s voice was increasing in pitch at an alarming rate and David was done with this whole scenario. 

“It is if I’m testing it for the store,” David explained, exhausted that his father wasn’t getting it. 

“I don’t think they’ll let you write it off,” Johnny picked up the invoice that David had stupidly left on the table. “David! This is a big bill for a small boutique in Elmdale.”

“It’s fine! They’re going to write it off!” David was at the end of the rope and drowning in the feeling that he had done something wrong. 

“Who is?!” His dad's voice was reaching an alarming pitch. 

“The write off, the write off people!” David threw his hands up in exasperation. 

His dad stared at him incredulously and David shooed him out of his room. 

David started at his table, cluttered with freshly unpackaged items and rolled his eyes at the feeling of guilt that was settling into his stomach. He looked around the empty room, just to make sure it was  _ actually  _ empty, before he pulled out his phone. 

When google didn’t explain  _ write-offs  _ to him in a way that he could understand, he put on his shoes, swallowed down his trepidation and made his way to the lobby. Stevie had to know what a write-off was. She was still a business woman, no matter what business duties Patrick took ownership of. That fell into ‘business woman’ territory.

He swung the door open, ready to face her mockery and snide comments, but stopped short once he was in the office. 

Patrick’s head snapped up, a greeting choking its way out of his throat. 

“Is Stevie not here?” David asked. The shock of the situation vibrated up his spine as he laid eyes on him for the first time in a month. 

He checked the digital clock hanging on the opposite wall. It was Tuesday. It was supposed to be her day. 

“She’s sick so I’m covering for her,” Patrick explained, his face tight and eyes focused on David’s white sweater. David wanted to shrink back at his mistake, go back in time because he wasn’t ready to face Patrick. 

“Oh, okay,” David blinked back the memory of Patrick driving away from him, music blasting and tears shining in his eyes. 

“What do you need?” Patrick folded his arms over his chest and sat back onto the chair behind the desk. “Towels? I can’t give you anymore of that lotion we were testing to supply for guests. Stevie gave you the last one last week.”

“I just had a question for her, sorry to bother you.” David shook his head and turned to the door, gripped the handle tight. 

“If it’s something about the motel, you can ask me,” David turned back to look at Patrick who was drumming a pen against the almost-newly lacquered desk. If he focused, he could still smell the fumes. Patrick’s eyebrows were furrowed and David focused on the folds of Patrick’s forehead where the movement manipulated the skin. 

“It’s kind of a business question?” David let go of the doorknob. 

Patrick chuckled as he dropped his pen and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. “So—you thought to ask Stevie?”

“Well, you and I aren’t talking and Google is confusing!” David threw his hands up in the air as he huffed his way to the sofa, instantly regretting sitting on it while talking to Patrick because the only thought circulating through his brain is the fact that they’ve fucked on this piece of furniture. 

“Oh,” Patrick looked to the side, sliding away from David and to the tree of business cards that sat on the desk. 

“I’m sorry,” David took a deep breath. “I think that came out wrong.”

“No, you’re fine,” Patrick pushed himself off his chair and walked around the desk, across the room and sat in the chair adjacent to David. That chair was new too, a mid-century piece that David had picked out as his 10th favorite. The rest had been striked out because of budgetary concerns. 

Patrick and Stevie had agreed to let him take on that project after he shamelessly wormed his way into it. This was before he left. 

“What’s up?”

“What’s a write off?” David asked. “You can’t make fun of me for this because this is more complex than credit cards and you were very gracious about that one.”

“Okay, David,,” Patrick cut him off with a soft chuckle. “A write off is a business expense that can be used to offset your taxable income. So the more you write off, the less income you get taxed on.”

“Examples,” David prodded with a flick of his wrist. 

“Okay,” Patrick hummed as he crossed his left leg over his right, his ankle resting on his knee, and gripped his knee. “I used to do freelance business consulting, so I was driving a lot to meet up with clients. So when I would do my taxes every year, I’d submit gas receipts for when I would fill up my tank and the tax people would approve it or deny it.”

“Oh,” David breathed out of his nose as the idea settled into his brain. “What if I was sampling products for the Blouse Barn?”

He had a bad feeling about the answer. 

“It depends. They can be pretty picky about that stuff,” Patrick rubbed at his chin. “What products are you testing?”

“Home goods?” David’s face screwed to the side on it’s own accord.

“That’s a bit of a stretch,” Patrick shrugged. “Considering what you’re selling now.”

“Okay,” David slapped his hands against his knees and got up. “That answers my questions.”

David should thank him, but he couldn’t get the words out. He was halfway to the door when Patrick stood up. 

“Wait.”

David’s heart skipped a beat with the interruption and he turned back to face him with hope. 

“I’m still working through things,” Patrick started, hands back in his pocket, reaching deep. “But we can talk.” He frowned, cleared his throat. “I can get you towels and stuff.” 

“Okay,” David whispered as he nodded his head. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Okay, David,” Patrick teased, voice small and uncertain. 

David pointed behind him at the door. 

“I’m just going to go,” David took a step closer to the door. “Have some stuff to return.”

Patrick chuckled as David slipped through the door. He closed it softly, aching more now for Patrick than he had before. 

It had been one talk, all about business with no teasing or flirting or anything suggestive, but Patrick had looked at him, answered his questions and was  _ nice  _ about it.

David was reminded of why it would never work between them and why he so desperately wanted it to. 

*

David groaned as he tore the sheet off of his body and got up, shivering at the draft that always seemed to be permeating the walls of the motel. This was now night number two of not being able to sleep, of staring at the window and being able to feel every blood cell pumping through his veins and  _ not being able to sleep.  _ If he didn’t sleep, work was going to be  _ hell  _ tomorrow, which would just make him feel even worse.

He pulled on his uggs and grabbed his phone. He sat on the sofa, but it was lumpier than his bed and he thought that was impossible. So he got back up, grabbed his keys and opened the door. He only stood on the sidewalk for ten seconds before he walked back in. Patrick had fixed the lights outside of room 1 so the one comfortable outdoor chair was now a moth attraction. 

With a sigh, he went back into his room, pulled off his Uggs and got back into bed, pulling the sheet up and over his head, blocking out any residual light that the crooked miniblinds couldn’t filter out. 

When he woke up, he didn’t feel better. He felt  _ worse.  _ It was still dark outside and David huffed as he rolled over and picked up his phone. It had only been 45 minutes. 

He felt like he was dying. Like all the energy was slowly being sucked out of his body, like there was some monster feeding on it and his heart had to beat faster, harder to combat it. 

Morning finally came and David was itching to crawl out of his skin. Even his softest cardigan couldn’t calm him and it was with labored breaths that David got ready, combing his fingers through his day old hair and slapping on his skincare items. 

When he left the bathroom, the room was empty and there weren’t any noises coming from his parents room. He didn’t even think about it, just got right back into bed and hoped that he could get more than a half hour of sleep. 

His nap didn’t last long. 

He called Wendy, explaining he needed to take a sick day, that he was coming down with something and would let her know if he’d make it to his last remaining shift in the week. She was nice about it, assured David that she would be fine and for him to take his time. Wendy had a soft spot for him and David could admit that it made him feel good. But not good enough to lift him from his current mood.

The sense of dread carried him to the computer in the office. The screen was black and he sighed as he wiggled the mouse and waited. Nothing happened. He slammed his hand down onto the keyboard--still, nothing happened. He poked at the power button on the monitor. Then again and again until the monitor lit up. 

He opened the internet browser and picked at a loose thread on his sleeve while he waited for google to load. When it did, he typed in his symptoms and the diagnosis was  _ not good.  _ He rubbed the back of his neck and paced the length of the room. 

_ Pulmonary embolism.  _

_ Blood clots. Lungs.  _

_ Death? Death.  _

The door swung open and Stevie jumped in the doorway, hand over her heart as she let out a big breath. 

“Holy fuck, David,” Stevie said once she caught her breath. She walked into the office and pushed him out from behind the counter then sat down on the chair behind the desk. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“I need you to take me to the hospital,” David demanded. “Let’s go.”

He moved to walk to the door, but Stevie stayed behind the counter. 

“Let’s go,” David repeated as he opened the door. 

“Why do I have to take you to the hospital?” Stevie asked. 

“Because I’m having a pulmonary embolism! Which! Are deadly,” David waved at the door. 

“Okay, well, the hospital is very far. So you are going to die before then,” Stevie said. She was still sitting in her chair, which was  _ incorrect  _ because she needed to be in her car, driving him to see a  _ doctor.  _ But instead, she was sitting on that fucking chair and  _ not  _ driving him to a doctor. 

“Where is the nearest doctor?” David threw his hands up into the air in frustration. 

“Oh, there’s one in Schitt’s Creek,” Stevie said with a nod. 

“Okay, can you take me to them?” David’s heart was racing even faster and this was it. He was going to die in a motel lobby at basically twenty-nine and no thought had ever made him feel more pathetic. 

The door swung open and Patrick walked in; dressed in his usual blue button up and dark jeans, dark leather bag hanging from his shoulder. Thank god he was here because Stevie was awful, but Patrick was reliable and would get him the help he needed. Even if they were still on rocky terms. 

“David thinks he’s dying so I’m going to take him to see Ted,” Stevie said as she stood up. Patrick furrowed his eyebrows as he looked back and forth between the two of them. 

“To see Ted?” Patrick sounded confused and David didn’t know why they were all still  _ talking.  _ He should be in a car, being driven to see a doctor. “Wait, why do you think you’re dying?”

“I’m having a pulmonary embolism,” David stated, his voice rising in pitch as he clawed at his throat. “So I need to go see a doctor so I don’t die.”

“Is that the blood clot thing?” Patrick asked as he deposited his bag onto the desk. 

“Yes, now can someone please take me?” David asked, his desperation bled into his voice and if they didn’t leave soon, he was going to lose it. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Stevie said as she got up. He followed her to her car and fixated on how sad his funeral was going to be if it was held in  _ Schitt’s Creek.  _

*

He didn’t know what was more embarrassing; the fact that Ted was a  _ veterinarian  _ or that panic attacks were  _ real  _ and he was apparently having one. He didn’t want to believe it, but when Stevie drove him back to the motel, he googled the symptoms and okay, it made  _ sense _ , but that didn’t mean that it made him feel any better. 

He wanted to sleep, needed to sleep, but he was still so wound up. Stevie didn’t help, Alexis was going to make it worse, so when Stevie dropped him off, he went to the lobby instead of his room. 

Patrick was behind the desk, just like he always was, tapping away at his keyboard as he looked back and forth between a ledger and his laptop. 

“You’re still alive,” Patrick said with a soft smile. David hummed in acknowledgement as he sat on the couch. 

“Did you know that panic attacks are real? They’re not just ploys curated by celebrities to cover for their mental breakdowns,” David said. He put his feet up on the rickety coffee table and dug his fingertips into the back of his neck, closing his eyes.

“I did know that,” Patrick responded. There was a rustling and then the couch dipped next to him. 

David turned his head to face Patrick, rolling it against the back of the couch. He opened his eyes and grimaced at Patrick’s sympathetic face. 

“I used to get them all the time,” Patrick shrugged. “They started when Rachel and I got engaged. Stopped having them frequently about a year after I moved here. Still get them from time to time.”

“Huh,” David closed his eyes and felt a hand on his arm, let out a deep breath as Patrick’s squeezed. “How do you make them stop?”

Patrick chuckled. “Sometimes I go on hikes when I start to feel overwhelmed.”

“Oh, I won’t be doing that,” David shook his head. The hand on his arm moved and then there was a gentle scratching against David’s skull. He couldn’t help but lean into the touch. His eyes fluttered open and Patrick’s were worried and trained on him. 

“Being active usually helps me,” Patrick’s fingers were on the shell of David’s ear and David wanted to cry at the feeling. He missed that gentle intimacy Patrick used to show him. “I think Twyla’s doing a yoga class tonight. Might be worth it for you to check it out.”

He really fucking missed Patrick. David focused on the warmth coming from Patrick’s fingers, taking full advantage of the comfort.

“That almost sounds worse than a hike,” David said with a scoff. 

“Okay, David,” There was a warm pat to David’s shoulder.

Patrick stood up and David watched him walk back to the desk and turn around to face him, his face pinched off in a grimace. He could see Patrick’s hands as they twisted together, knuckles white as his fingers dug into his palms. 

“Can I stay here for a little bit?” David asked. He pulled his sleeves down over his hands and grasped at his knees. 

“You can stay as long as you’d like,” Patrick said as he began typing at his computer, his face stony but his eyes kept flicking up to David’s and they were just as warm as David remembered them being. 

“Thank you,” David said.

Patrick looked past the top of his laptop, his eyes bored into David’s. 

“Anytime, David.”

*

Alexis had brought up yoga and David couldn’t ignore the second suggestion, but he wished he had. It was a  _ couples  _ yoga class and there was  _ no way  _ he was going to do anything near Alexis, because  _ ew.  _

He was looking around the room full of people, everyone was coupled off except for one. 

“David! Why don’t you come and join me?”

David froze at the voice and then slowly turned around to face Jocelyn. 

“Come on,” Jocelyn held her hand out to him and David had no choice but to accept the invitation. Everyone else was paired off already. 

The floor was filled with yoga mats and each had their set of two people. There was a space big enough for another mat. He was tempted to snag it and make up an excuse about having had a bad lunch, just like Roland and to fake his way through the session, make his own accommodations.

The door to the barn opened and then Patrick walked in, followed by a woman with blonde hair twisted into a small bun. The side of her head was shaved and her ears were lined with gold hoops. Patrick turned as the woman set up their mat, stopping as soon as he saw David.

He raised his hand in greeting and David waved back. David wanted to make a comment on Patrick’s shorts and how they hit a little above mid-thigh, showing off creamy skin, but Twyla was clapping her hands at the front of the room, drawing everyone’s attention to her. 

Jocelyn’s hands were on David’s arms and he was being led to their mat. 

He moved through the class, following Jocelyn’s lead and shifting with Twyla’s corrections. He felt himself slowly releasing tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying. Jocelyn was murmuring advice throughout the hour, her voice was soothing and David felt himself drifting off, right in the middle of a crowd as he laid on her back. 

There were words bubbling up along the back of his throat and he tried to stifle them, but he was comfortable and he couldn’t hold it back anymore, not through his sleep drunk state. He looked over, his head knocking gently against Jocelyn’s, to where Patrick was in the same exact position as David.

Their eyes met and David ignored the smile Patrick sent his way, choosing instead to look at the ceiling. 

“I think I’m really lonely here,” David whispered as his eyes fluttered closed. 

He was asleep before Jocelyn could respond. 

When David woke up the next morning, it was late, tipping close to the afternoon and his head  _ hurt.  _ Thankfully his room was empty, the door adjoining his and his parents room was ajar and he couldn’t see his mother sitting at their table, as she usually was. 

There were a couple of texts on his phone, but he ignored them. Instead he got up, grabbed a bottle of water from the minifridge, then went back to sleep. 

The second time he woke up was much better and David made it to his early evening shift at the Blouse Barn with just a minute to spare. 

*

Generally, David thrived at the Blouse Barn. The first few weeks were a little rough as he adjusted to the clientele and the products, but he quickly wooed Wendy and had the fortune of leading her and the store towards a more  _ dignified  _ look. 

He was now surrounded by black and white pieces that were more tailored to where he wanted to see the Greater Elm’s shift to in the near future. He was technically selling less, but standing in the middle of the monochromatic gave him a sense of calm that he hadn’t felt since being removed from his home.

There was something about bringing a concept to life that settled into David’s heart and left him feeling proud. Between that and yoga, David was starting to feel good. Each day seemed more manageable and less like everything he knew and loved was ripped from his arms. With each day that passed, David forgave himself a little more for fucking things up with Patrick. Every hour that passed soothed just a tiny sliver of his self-loathing, but that tiny sliver was better than nothing. 

It might have taken four months, but he was proud of the transformation. David sat behind the counter, his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched people walk past the windows. He narrowed his eyes at the bags hanging from their wrists. 

“Wendy!” David called out as he slid off his stool. “I’m going to take my lunch.”

He left before she could respond. 

David walked in the opposite direction as the pedestrians, his eyes focused on the store at the end of the street. When he walked in through the door, he was met with the colorful clash that had once graced the Blouse Barn. There were people milling around, talking and eating cookies as they shopped. 

The back wall was lined with shelves of shoes, just as colorful and gaudy as the pieces that hung from racks on the floor. David walked to the nearest one and thumbed through the blouses that hung there. 

“Fuck,” David whispered. A woman near him holding a baby on her hip shushed him. 

It was a new,  _ fucking  _ bouse barn. A new store had come in, down the road and stolen their clientele, their business. David was simmering with anger. 

He stalked the perimeter of the store, avoiding the salespeople as he took inventory and finally stopped at the table with cookies and water. He grabbed three cookies and left in a hurry. 

There was a park adjacent to the Blouse Barn with a bench that he sometimes sat at during his breaks and lunches. But that was very dependent on the weather. 

He ate his cookies bit by bit as people passed by on the bike path, staring off into the distance as he thought about the missing pieces. How did this happen? What could David do to fix it? Where had the Blouse Barn gone wrong?

When he walked into the store, he stopped just inside the door and looked around. He loved the look of it, the minimalist layout with the clothes hanging from racks along the wall, the hangers spaced evening and with enough distance between them that you could take one off without disrupting the others. Folded pieces were arranged perfectly on tables throughout the floor. 

He loved the black peacocks he had gotten for decorations and the decorative unscented candles that helped transform the lighting into something just a little bit softer. 

David finally had a place in the area that matched him. The stark black and white  _ fit  _ him, matched his aesthetic. 

He took his place again behind the register and pulled out his journal from the bag he had stashed under the counter. 

Maybe he needed a store that complimented who he was slowly becoming here. 

He started drawing out plans, listing ways that he could transform the Blouse Barn into something that was also beautiful and accessible. David was slowly uncovering the beating heart of the area, the beauty in a community that was its own little world, supported itself and was growing and changing with each season he was there. 

He wrote and sketched until it was time to go home; then he brainstormed the entire drive home until he was turning the car that Wendy had leased for him so he had reliable transportation to work, into the parking lot of the motel.

When he went into work the next afternoon, there were large, tacky, red clearance signs posted every few feet, taped on the walls, sitting on top of piles of clothing and even hanging from the lacquer emu that stood loud and proud in the middle of the store. 

Wendy was on the phone, rubbing her forehead as she argued with someone about airline miles and electricity bill. He took a sign off a table and held it in between his pointer finger and thumb and waited for her to hang up. 

“David, I am in a tough situation,” Wendy started. 

There was a gentle ringing in his ears as he listened to Wendy fire him and announce that the store was closing. 

“We haven’t made a profit since you started changing our inventory,” Wendy explained. “Which is not your fault. None of this is your fault. You were my mistake which I take full credit for.”

“Oh,” David whispered as his brain wrapped around the fact that once again, he was jobless, as he was running out of his favorite nighttime eye cream. 

“The good news is,” Wendy reached over to grab a piece of paper off the register. “There is a Blouse Barn franchise in Australia that is offering me $10,000 for the name.”

Wendy shook her fists in the air with excitement. 

“Wait, what?” David followed her to the front of the building where she started to tape the signs in the windows. 

“They’re expanding into North America and apparently I’ve been using the name all these years without their permission, so they’re trying to settle this before they start advertising,” Wendy explained. 

“Okay, as your brand consultant, I think I should sit in on the meeting,” David took down the posters as soon as she walked away from them. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Wendy moved onto the next window. “They’re just going to hand me the check and that’s it.”

“ There’s just, something in me telling me that this is a bad idea and that I should be there,” David tapped on the window with his index finger, different scenarios passed through his mind and he needed a second opinion. 

“Oh, I need to go return that car today, so can you leave the keys on my desk before you leave?”

*

“Dad, can I ask you a question?” David leaned against the door that separated their rooms. He waited until his dad stopped shining his shoes and capped the polish jar. 

“Yeah, come on in,” Johnny moved a pair of shoes off one of the dining chairs so David could sit. 

“Have you ever had to deal with naming and copyright issues?” David asked as he crossed his legs. 

“Oh yeah,” Johnny chuckled. “We had to deal with that a lot with Rose Video. There was a Rosie’s Video in Sao Paulo. That was a good shakedown.”

“Apparently, there’s a Blouse Barn in Australia that’s expanding into North America and they’re offering Wendy $10,000 dollars to buy the name off of her—” David explained.

“She should take it. It’s a terrible name,” Johnny cut him off. 

David huffed in frustration. 

“That’s not the point,” He shook his head as he tried to formulate his thought. “I want her to push more and negotiate and get more money.”

“It’s not worth it, it’s a terrible name,” Johnny repeated. 

David sat and listened to his dad ramble about what makes a good store name and logo and how they should be used, until there was a break in the conversation and he excused himself out of the room and through the door to the lobby of the motel. 

There was no one in the room, and with a peek back out the front door, there was no laundry cart on the sidewalk. He moved and rang the bell on the desk, the new, shiny gold one that actually worked. 

“Be right there!” Patrick called out, then he was bounding down the stairs until he appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Oh, give me one second.”

He ran back up the stairs and David waited until he returned, flush from exertion and a basket full of white towels in his arms with a surprised look on his face. He dropped the basket onto the floor next to the coffee table and gave David a warm smile. 

David looked away, suddenly shy with the attention. When he looked back, Patrick’s eyes quickly fell back down to the basket and David moved his leg to bump into Patrick’s. 

“Hey,” David’s voice came out much lower than he wanted and a soft blush bloomed across Patrick’s face. 

“What’s up, David?” Patrick asked, his voice high and pitchy. 

“I have a business question,” David asked. He ignored the way Patrick’s eyes lit up at the thought. 

“Go ahead.”

Patrick folded the towels as David explained the situation to him. 

“She should definitely ask for more money,” Patrick said as he stacked a folded face towel with the others of the same size. 

“Okay, that’s what I was thinking, but I didn’t know if negotiating it was going to bite us in the ass,” David breathed out a sigh of relief. Patrick agreed with him. Patrick, who had helped Stevie turn the motel around until it saw profits, agreed with him. 

“I mean, that’s always a potential,” Patrick shrugged as he pulled another towel out of the basket. “But as long as you read them and back off right before they get angry about it, you should be fine.”

“Okay,” David nodded as he made a mental list of things to do. He needed to see if he could find out how much money they made in profits from the year before and how many stores they were looking to open so he could come up with a dollar amount he could ask for.

“You like pushing and arguing, so I think you’ll do great,” Patrick said with a tease that made David’s eyes roll. 

“Okay, thanks so much for all your help,” David said as he began to walk backwards to the door behind him. 

“You’re welcome, let me know how it goes!” 

*

They had pushed and pulled the negotiation until the woman was stretched like taffy between their fingers and they had  _ won.  _ David had successfully gotten Wendy a  _ much  _ larger check, a larger dollar amount than they were originally offered. 

David had wanted to save the store, to prove that he could get them out of the hole he had created, but Wendy chose to let go. At the end of the day, she needed a break, to reassess and get a handle on her life, which David couldn’t blame her for. 

_ “Do something interesting.” _

That’s what Wendy had said when she handed him a thank you check, a small $40,000 portion of her  _ big fucking check.  _ David had stared at it flabbergasted but when he got back to the motel, he held it in his hands and smiled at the potential. 

He was going to do something really fucking interesting with it.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David pulled the paper off of the bottom of his cupcake and tried to take a dainty bite, but the frosting was stacked too high. He could feel the smear of frosting on his nose, but before he could reach for his napkin, Patrick was wiping it off with his index finger. David’s heart stopped as he watched Patrick bring his finger to his lips and lick the frosting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my goal was friday night and technically, TECHNICALLY. saturday at 1 am is still considered friday night. 
> 
> i've had this chapter written for days but spent most of my evening today fiddling with the end. how do you write the end to a fic that deserves only the best?
> 
> hope i did it justice. 
> 
> xo sam

David unlocked his phone and logged into his bank’s app, just to look at the money that had been sitting there for weeks; money that he still wasn’t sure what to do with. It was daunting, making a big decision so quickly. If he fucked it up, there wasn’t any more money for him to fall back on. If he used the money and his idea _failed,_ he couldn’t try again. This time around, he didn’t have his father’s checkbook to keep his business afloat. 

He stared at the money and envisioned a future where he used it and was successful and he fucking _won._

He wanted it so fucking badly. 

With the flick of his thumb, he exited the app and opened his message app.

_I need a wine night. I’ll buy if you host. Meet me at the general store?_

Stevie’s reply was instant, a thumbs up and a wine glass emoji that had David grabbing his wallet and slipping out the door before anyone could ask where he was going. 

“God this place is a fucking mess,” David whispered as he followed Stevie through the aisles of the general store. He poked at one of the _‘sale going out of business’_ signs that was posted along the store. “No wonder it’s going out of business.”

“David!” Stevie slapped his arm and he let out an _‘ow!’_ But grimaced once he saw the owner saddling up next to him to restock the shelf. 

“Thank you,” he whispered as he turned back to Stevie. He waited until the owner moved away from him before he spoke again. “They have their cereal next to rat poison, next to their costume jewelry section.”

David plucked a bracelet off a steel hook and shook it in her face. 

“This looks like it’s going to break as soon as you slip it on!” He pulled at the beads and frowned as the elastic stretched, cracking under the strain. David threw it back down onto the nearest counter and motioned at the toilet paper. “Look at the toilet paper! They carry the worst toilet paper at the highest prices.”

He made his way over to the next row of shelves. “They have dozens of jars of Gel Time, and no skin care products. You have to go to Elmdale to get shampoo that doesn’t dry your hair out. It’s all cheap products made from companies that don’t care about their consumers.”

“Okay—”

“And they carry only fruit wine except for one white that tastes like rubbing alcohol and one red blend that only tastes edible after you choke back one large glass of it,” David barrelled past Stevie, cutting her off as he went to the wine section. He pulled two bottles of the red blend off the shelf. “The best thing about these is that they’re the biggest.”

He went to the register and set them on the counter. The glass made a heavy thud against the scratched wood and David held up a finger as the owner began to ring him up. 

“Is there a ‘going out of business’ discount right now?” David asked. 

“Yep. 50% off,” The woman replied with a sad sigh. 

“Stevie!” David called out. Stevie turned to face him where she was trying on plastic sunglasses. “Grab more wine! It’s on sale!”

“Yep!” Stevie disappeared into the aisle and returned with her arms full of wine. She slapped the sunglasses down onto the counter after the wine bottles and raised her eyebrows at him. 

“And the glasses too,” David said with an eyeroll. 

*

They were pleasantly drunk. Well, David was very drunk and Stevie was moderately drunk, so that averaged out to pleasantly drunk and David could live with that. He drank through his rant about the general store and how it’s poor management had run the idea into the ground before it even took off. 

He laid back on Stevie’s bed in a huff. 

“Literally, anyone could run a general store better,” David cried out in exasperation. “Where am I going to buy wine now?”

“I have an idea,” Stevie said as she laid down next to David, on her side, facing him. He turned onto his side and raised an eyebrow at her. “Why don’t you do it?”

David felt his mouth turn down in confusion, a frown to match the unsettled feeling that twisted his gut. 

“Do what?” He asked, afraid to know the answer. 

“Run the general store,” Stevie deadpanned. David scoffed at her. “You’ve spent over an hour complaining about their management style and layout and how an idiot could do a better job than they did. So!”

“So what?” David felt the thrill of panic running up his spine. 

“Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and prove it,” Stevie turned onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “Prove that an _idiot_ can do a better job than they did.”

David followed her actions and fell onto his back. The popcorn of Stevie’s ceiling was a gross, bold choice, and David felt the emotions bubbling up. 

“I don’t know if I can,” David admitted. 

“You have the money. You have an itemized list of what you would do better. You said the other day that you want to build something. This seems like the perfect idea,” Stevie pulled herself up to sitting. “I need more wine.”

He mulled the idea over as Stevie unscrewed another bottle of wine. 

David did have the money, did have a big idea as to why their business was failing. There was a need for a general store in the heart of Schitt’s Creek; the market was there. The town of Schitt’s Creek just needed a little bit of help, a nudge in the correct direction and the only person David trusted to do that, was himself. 

The next morning, David pulled himself off of Stevie’s couch where he had passed out and dragged himself to the motel. After a shower and breakfast, he sketched out a potential idea for a general store, crossing off ideas that were definite no’s, moving ideas into maybe and ‘ _fuck yes’_ lists. 

It could be good. 

David circled where he had written ‘ _consignment’_ and closed his notebook and went to find Jocelyn. 

A few days later, he had a list of potential people to call to become vendors and a tone and color pallete for the store. The money in his bank account was calling out to him, the general store was empty, so he pulled the bandaid off and after a quick look at the business card tree in the lobby of the motel in search of a business consultant who wasn’t Patrick, he called Ray, who seemed like his best bet with his plethora of business ventures, to schedule a meeting to go over what he needed to do to actually get the idea up and running. 

At 10 am the next morning, David knocked on the front door of Ray’s house and waited for the door to open. Nothing happened so he banged harder, his fist scratching the heavy wood and it swung quickly, his fist going right through the now empty space. 

“David!” Ray stepped back and David stepped into the house. “I’m just finishing up an appointment.”

There was a couple standing in the living room, awkwardly holding tennis rackets as they waited. 

“Why don’t you take a number?” Ray turned to pull a slip of paper out of a red plastic dispenser. “You can sit at the table--” Ray gestured to the glass dining room table, smile just a touch too wide. “--and I’ll call your number when I’m ready for you.”

“Okay,” David whispered as he slowly sat down at the table, the seat cushion let out a _pfft_ of air and David eyed his lap wearily. “I guess that’s fine.”

“Great!” Ray exclaimed with clenched fists that shook in front of his chest with—glee?

David watched him get back to the couple and move them into odd poses and direct them with phrases that confused David, and he had been to many, _many_ mystifying photoshoots with his mother. 

After they were finished, the couple sat with Ray at his desk and David zoned out as he scrolled on his phone, his notebook on the table next to him. 

“David!” Ray called out and David’s head snapped up. “I’m ready for you.”

David moved to the chair in front of the desk. 

“What can I do for you?” Ray asked as he finally, _finally_ set his attention on David, who stopped looking at the clock quite a while ago. 

“I set up an appointment for some business consulting?” David opened his notebook to the page he had already reserved for notes from the meeting. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, David,” Ray shook his head, that smile still frozen into his muscles. “I don’t do business consultations.”

“What? No! You said you did. On the phone,” David closed his notebook with a snap. “What do you mean you don’t—why am I here then?”

“I honestly don’t know David,” Ray’s cheery voice was grating on David’s nerves. “For business consultations, you’re going to want to talk to Patrick Brewer. I set up his freelance business consultations for him. Would you like me to set up a meeting for you? You do have to pay me a small finders fee, but it truly is small.”

“Nope! I know where to find him,” David stood up, ready to excuse himself. “Thank you for your help though. Couldn’t have done this without you.”

He let himself out, closing the door as Ray called out _‘ciao!’_

*

He needed to call Patrick, to set up an appointment, but the thought of explaining his plans to someone that knew what they were doing while also being someoneDavid _respected,_ was fucking terrifying. He wasn’t even sure that Patrick would help him. They were on _much_ better terms, but it was still rocky. 

David had schucked off his shoes as soon as he got home and gotten into bed, the weight of what he was about to do was crushing and tense on his shoulders. 

Alexis was puttering around their room, getting ready for early evening drinks with Twyla and David watched her pull dresses from her closet. 

“Those shoes?” David asked as she pulled out her Alexandre Birman Clarita pumps. She growled at him before she stared down at the shoes and shook her head quickly. “The Gucci Crawfords will look better. They’re gold and retro, and would look good with the dress. Just tease out your hair a little bit.”

“Ugh, David!” She huffed at him but still swapped out the shoes for the ones he mentioned. She picked up the dress and turned to walk into the bathroom before she paused, turning back to him. “So the dress is good?”

“Yes.”

She continued her way to the bathroom and he finally picked up his phone with the intent to call Patrick. He waited until Alexis was closing the front door behind her and found Patrick’s contact quickly before he could push off the task until tomorrow. 

Patrick picked up on the third ring with a breathy _‘hello?’_

“Hey David, it’s Patrick,” David said, he pulled the phone from his face to shudder before he was yelling “nope! That’s not how that works!” into the phone. 

There was a chuckle in his ear and David was ready for someone to break in and murder him, that sounded much better than sitting in his moritification for that greeting. 

“What can I do for you, Patrick?” 

“Okay, we are never speaking of that,” David said as he sat up on his bed. 

“Oh, we’re going to.”

“Please, no,” David whispered before he cleared his throat. “Um, so you know how Wendy gave me that check?”

“Yeah.” Patrick’s response was quickly drowned out by a laugh on his end and a _“Patrick! Come back to bed!”_

David’s heart dropped into his stomach and his lungs pushed the air they were holding in one big _woosh!_

“Oh,” David choked on the word. “Sorry, if you’re busy I can call back.”

“No, David. I’m not busy keep going,” There was the sound of a door closing and then Patrick was murmuring in his ear. “Continue. I wanna hear what you were going to say.”

“I’ll make it quick. I finally figured out what I want to do,” David said, his fingers twisted into the duvet under him and David needed to get off the phone. _Now._ “I want to start a business. A general store. But, it’s also a very specific store—” There was a chuckle on Patrick’s end. “So I went to go see Ray because he said he did business consultations, turns out he doesn't!”

David let out a nervous laugh. “He uh, actually told me to come talk to you. So, can we schedule a meeting for when you’re not busy?”

“Of course.” 

He nodded as he dug his teeth into his bottom lip. “Great. When?”

“Come over tomorrow for dinner. I was going to make lasagna. Bring your notes and we can talk about your next steps.” 

“Are you sure? Do you need to run that by whoever is asking you to go back to bed? Having your ex-lover in your apartment,” The bitter words flowed off David’s tongue before he could stop them. “Most people wouldn’t be okay with that.”

“Come over tomorrow. 7 p.m.”

“Kay,” David said. He didn’t wait for Patrick to say anything in response, he just hung up the phone in an embarrassed fervor. 

He slid off his bed and pulled on his shoes. Stevie still had a late check-in to go before she could go home and David hoped she still had that bottle of whiskey in the office. 

*

David was staring at the door to Patrick’s apartment, his fist in the air, an inch away from the wood but he was frozen. He was nervous to see Patrick after last night, after interrupting Patrick in bed with someone. 

There was a knock on the door and David jumped back in fright. He stared at the door with narrowed eyes before he himself knocked and then the door opened. Patrick was standing right there with a wide smile on his face. 

“I heard you walk up a few minutes ago,” Patrick teased. David couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at Patrick’s childish antics. “Come in.”

David walked past Patrick, dropping his bag onto the floor so he could hang his jacket on the coat rack. There was a flannel jacket hanging on one of the hooks. David raised the sleeve of it and wiggled it towards Patrick. 

“Sad to see that your fashion sense is getting worse,” David commented. 

“It’s not mine,” Patrick pulled it off the hook, balled it up and dumped it into a paper bag. 

“Does it belong to the mystery man I heard last night?” David asked. He picked up his bag and walked it to the dining table, placing it down on one of the chairs there. 

“Yeah,” Patrick sighed. David ignored him as he unzipped his bag and pulled out his notes.

“I didn’t realize you were dating someone,” David commented and lifted his bag off of the chair to set his notes down on the now vacant space. 

“I’m not,” His voice was loud and sure and David blinked at the volume of it. Patrick pulled a large wooden bowl down from a cabinet, making a _thud_ as it collided with the tile. Next he rifled in the fridge and David watched him pull ingredients out for a salad. 

“Kind of seems like you are,” David walked his bag back over to the front door, dropping it onto the floor at the foot of the coat rack. 

“I’m really not,” Patrick said as he pulled a knife from the block in front of him and unwrapped the cucumber. “I’ve hooked up with a few guys since our thing ended. This last guy only came over twice. I met him through a friend, the one I went to yoga with.”

“Two times is more than once,” David prodded, even though every fiber of his being was telling him not to. He sat down at one of the place settings at the table and turned in his seat until he was facing where Patrick was working. 

“I don’t like him, so he’s not coming over any more,” Patrick said, the knife hit the counter with a sharp _thwat_. “Sorry, misjudged the thickness of the cucumber.”

David snorted at Patrick’s sheepish smile.

“Was he not good in bed?” David asked. He picked up one of the wine glasses that had already been poured. 

“Eh,” Patrick shrugged. He sliced some cherry tomatoes and dropped them into the bowl on top of the greens. 

“Was he a selfish lover?” David smirked into his glass. 

“I—David,” Patrick sighed as he dropped more ingredients into the bowl. When he was finished, he put things back in the fridge and then turned to lean back against the counter. “You really wanna know?”

David nodded, his fingers still tight on the glass. 

“He wasn’t you,” Patrick shrugged. “Apparently, all these months later and I’m still not completely over you.”

“Oh,” David whispered, the chill of the realization poured over him, peppering his skin with goosebumps as it settled into his bones.

“Yeah, apparently, no matter how many times I remind myself that you and I aren’t looking for the same thing and that it could never work between us, there’s still a little part of me that’s holding onto the idea of you,” Patrick shifted to pick up the bowl and carry it to the dining table, placing it right in front of David, which, that was rude. “It’s been a killer on my sex life.”

“It could never work?” David asked, his mind grasped onto that thought, held onto it tight as he worked through everything Patrick said. 

“No,” Patrick said with a laugh. He sat down at the chair adjacent to David. “You’re David Rose.”

Patrick said that with such certainty, as if those three words could explain everything well enough to quell the thumping of David’s heart. 

“I don’t,” David shook his head, completely at loss for words. 

“You don’t want a relationship,” Patrick said the words like they were set in stone, the ten commandements of David Rose. 

“I was leaving,” David defended, as if that was going to smooth any part of this over. “You said you didn’t want that either.”

“I changed my mind,” Patrick stood up as a timer went off. 

“Do you want me to leave?” David asked, uncertain of the moment. 

“No,” Patrick opened the oven door and David was hit with the waft of heat. “We have a business plan to discuss.”

“Business after dinner?” David asked as he turned to watch Patrick pull a dish from the oven. Patrick hummed in agreement as he moved.

“Can you close the oven for me?” Patrick asked as he placed the dish on the ceramic ramekin that was already placed in the middle of the table.

David moved to close the door without a word, the aroma of the lasagna clouding all judgement. Patrick served dinner, scooping a generous serving onto David’s plate.

“I still can’t believe you actually know how to cook,” David said as he scooped a bite onto his fork. “Cooking is very hard.”

“My parents always made me help with dinner,” Patrick shrugged. He tore a piece of garlic bread and dipped it into the sauce that was oozing from between layers of noodles. “It’s hard not to pick stuff up when you do.”

They made small talk as they ate, but David was distracted. 

The confession that Patrick had laid onto him settled into David’s gut, heavy and present as David ate. With each bite he thought about what he had almost had. What would he have had if Patrick had been able to have that sense of permanency, no matter how fleeting. Each word that came out of Patrick’s mouth pushed another thought of _‘what if’_ into David’s mind. 

_What if_ Patrick had called him his boyfriend? _What if_ David had been able to at least entertain the idea that Patrick wanted him like David had come to want him? 

_What if_ there had been more time before David thought he was leaving?

“More wine?” Patrick asked, the wine bottle poised above David’s empty glass. 

“Yes please.”

He watched Patrick pour wine into his cup before topping off his own glass and then reach back and place the empty bottle onto his bar cart that was nearby. 

“Let me clear out our plates,” Patrick said as he got up. “Then we can look over your stuff.”

David led him through the consignment model, through his list of potential vendors, through his sketches for the shelving and product placements, but stopped at the money page of his notes. 

He looked up at Patrick, unable to hide the panic in his eyes.

“Here, let me see your pen,” Patrick took it from David’s outstretched hand, their skin brushing briefly in the exchange. 

Patrick led David through the numbers, drawing figures and making quick calculations. He sent David spreadsheets he could use, gave him a to-do list and made sure David knew what to do next. 

“Thank you Patrick,” David murmured as he closed his notebook. 

“Anytime.” Patrick paused. “Now, do I get to see the moodboard you were talking about?”

“Oh, no,” David shook his head vigorously. “You have bad taste and won’t appreciate it.” 

His eyes were warm and earnest as he took a sip of wine. Patrick was starting to flush from the alcohol and David needed to get the fuck out. 

“I should get going,” David said as he tapped on his notebook. 

“You don’t want to finish your wine?” Patrick asked.

“I guess I could finish it,” David moved the glass closer to himself, the red wine sloshing gently. 

“I got cupcakes from the bakery in Elmdale earlier,” Patrick said as he got up. “Let me get them.”

“Why were you at the bakery in Elmdale?” David asked. Patrick pulled a white box from the middle shelf of his bar cart and placed it on the table. 

“Well, I was at the bank in Elmdale doing motel stuff,” Patrick lifted the lid and David felt his heart flutter at the sight of perfectly swirled white frosting. He couldn’t wait to taste it and find out the flavor. “And then I figured I should get dessert for tonight.”

“If all business meetings come with dessert, I think I’m going to be a big fan,” David said as he lifted a cupcake from the box, careful to not dent the frosting. 

“Just ones with me,” Patrick teased. David watched him peel the paper off the cupcake and tear the bottom half off. 

“What?” David watched in confusion as Patrick placed the bottom half on top of the frosting and take a large bite. “Did you just turn that into a cupcake sandwich?”

“Yeah,” Patrick said through a mouthful of cake. “You get a better ratio of cupcake to frosting.”

“Close your mouth when you chew. You’re so disgusting, oh my god,” David shook his head as Patrick’s pink tongue darted out to lick frosting from the corner of his mouth. 

“It’s good cake,” Patrick nodded to the cupcake that was still held in David’s hands. “You should try it.”

David pulled the paper off of the bottom of his cupcake and tried to take a dainty bite, but the frosting was stacked too high. He could feel the smear of frosting on his nose, but before he could reach for his napkin, Patrick was wiping it off with his index finger. David’s heart stopped as he watched Patrick bring his finger to his lips and lick the frosting off. 

_Fuck._

Patrick let out a little _sigh_ at the taste of the frosting on his tongue and David was one second away from throwing his cupcake back into the box and _devouring_ Patrick. He could see it now, how he would pull Patrick into his lap and bat the mutilated cupcake out of his hands, sending it to the floor. They wouldn’t care though, their minds too occupied on moving their hands to get the others clothes off. 

David would bend him over the table here, eat Patrick out until he was begging to get fucked, which he would. He’d fuck him hard and fast, each thrust pushing the table just a little bit, but David would just follow it and they’d ignore the sound of the wood moving against the hardwood. 

He shook the image out of his mind and took another bite, ignoring Patrick as he ate alongside of him.

David left Patrick’s apartment with a full belly, skin flushed from wine and gentle teasing and his mind racing. 

*

The lease to the building that held the general store was his. David’s name was printed on his copy in black and white, with a price and due dates and terms of lease. It was tucked away into an accordion file that Patrick had found empty in the office of the motel and given him. 

_“It’s black so it matches your general aesthetic.”_

It was tucked under his bed for lack of space. Alexis had called dibs on the desk when they moved in and it had shifted from a ‘get ready space’ to her school desk, constantly overflowing with papers and books. 

Now he held the keys in his hand as he walked to the lobby of the motel where he was hoping to convince Stevie to lend him cleaning supplies, and maybe her assistance. 

When he walked in, Patrick was sitting at the desk, pen in hand as he scribbled on a pad of paper. 

“Look what I got,” David shimmied his shoulders as he wiggled the key in the air. 

“You officially own the general store!” Patrick put his pen down and leaned back in his chair. 

“No,” David pointed a finger at him, his voice confident. “I _leased_ the general store. Very big difference.”

“Oh, that’s right. Please excuse me,” Patrick stood up and walked around the counter. He held his arms up and out and stepped close to David, wrapping him in a hug. “Congratulations, man. It’s a big deal.”

“Thank you,” David whispered as he returned the hug, his arms encircling Patrick softly and weakly. 

“What’re your plans for getting it ready for products?” Patrick moved to sit on the sofa and David followed, sitting in one of the arm chairs. There was a vase of flowers on the coffee table, which David pulled closer to him so he could rearrange the stems. They had fallen just a touch, beginning to wilt.

“Well, I came to see if I could steal Stevie and borrow some cleaning supplies,” David tapped the final flower back into place and smiled at the bouquet. He pushed it back into the middle of the table. “Figured cleaning is the best first step and she mentioned earlier that she thinks it’s going to be a slow day.”

Patrick nodded as he kicked his feet up onto the table, his shoe was precariously close to the vase and David wanted to knock them off the table. Shoes didn’t belong so close to something beautiful. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Patrick murmured. David narrowed his eyes and nodded his head until he was pressing his eyes closed tightly and staring at the ceiling. 

“It’s getting very real and I don’t know if I can handle it,” David let the words fall from his mouth, his insecurities slipped before he could shove them back into the box deep, far into the back of his mind. 

“You’ll be fine,” Patrick slapped a warm hand onto David’s knee, leaning forward so he could reach. “I told you this the other night and I’ll tell you again; I think you are more than capable.”

David opened his eyes, focused on the space on the ceiling that used to have a long crack before Ronnie came in the weekend before they painted to fix it. 

“You’ve done this before,” Patrick took his hand off David’s knee with a final squeeze. “Your gallery didn’t run itself.”

Before David could say anything, Stevie came down the stairs with a pile of folded towels in her arms. 

“David’s come to save you from a day of work,” Patrick called out. 

“Oh, thank god,” Stevie said as she stopped in her tracks, turned back to them and dropped the towels into Patrick’s lap. “Let me get my bag.”

“Can you also grab cleaning supplies? Got the keys to the store,” David called out to her retreating back. She froze midstep, sighed and then kept walking. 

When she came back, she was pushing a cart loaded with the deep cleaning supplies, versus the light use products. 

“Let’s go before I regret helping you,” Stevie muttered as she pushed the cart to the door. “Get the door.”

They walked to store in silence except for the _thump-thump-thump_ of the fucked up wheel, and Stevie’s constant sigh everytime the cart jutted to the left every two turns of the wheel. 

“You should just buy a new cart,” David commented as he helped her lift the cart up the stairs. 

“We’re trying to cut back on spending for the next few months,” Stevie said. 

David pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door. 

“Why?” David held the door open as Stevie pushed the cart into the empty store. 

“We’re thinking of buying another motel,” Stevie snapped open a trash bag, slipping it over the can, the edges taught with the strain. 

“You are?” David stood and watched her fidget with the cleaning supplies on the cart. 

“Yeah,” Stevie eyed the doors. “It’s stuffy, I’m going to prop them open.”

David watched as she opened the door they came in through and jimmied the second one open. She propped them open with two rocks from his mother’s garden that ran alongside the store. 

“So, now that you’re done avoiding the subject, why do you not look happy about the idea of expanding the Budd Motel?”

Stevie let out a deep breath and sat down on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her as she leaned back on her arms. 

“It’s a lot of responsibility,” Stevie started. “It’s a lot of responsibility and I don’t know how to do that.”

“Okay, if anyone understands that, it’s me and I’m currently opening a general store, so you’re going to have to try harder to think of a reason that isn’t ‘ _i’m afraid of responsibility,’_ ” David said as he pulled the one chair the previous owners left closer to where Stevie was sitting on the ground. 

“I didn’t even want the first motel. My Aunt Maureen left it for me in her will,” Stevie sat up straight. “I was contemplating selling it until Patrick found me crying over the paperwork.”

“That’s a scary image,” David smirked. Stevie set him with a scathing glare. 

“The only reason that motel is anything, is because of Patrick,” Stevie’s face was starting to turn red.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” David murmured softly. 

“And he wasn’t even supposed to stay in Schitt’s Creek. He came because he was fleeing his life and a situation that he didn’t like. He booked his motel room for three nights, said he was going to drink alone and think about his next step. But then he came back, looking for towels, found me crying, while writing a craigslist looking for a business consultant. He offered to help while he was there. On his third night he had a list of grants pulled up on his phone and said he wanted to help, wanted to invest if I’d let him come in as a business manager,” Stevie took a deep breath and brushed the tears off of her face. “What if he still doesn’t know what he wants to do, but figures it out in three months and leaves?”

_There it was._

“I can’t run two motels by myself,” Stevie croaked out. “I could do one, this one,” Stevie pointed in the general direction of the door. “Because he’s set up all the spreadsheets and other things, so I would just fill everything in going forward.”

David didn’t know what to say. He understood how nerve wracking it was to not have a sense of permanency, to face the fear of ‘ _when_ is it going to happen’. 

“I don’t think Patrick would leave you high and dry,” David offered. “He actually likes the motel, which is strange and you could definitely use that in an argument against his character.”

Stevie chuckled as she leaned back onto the dusty floor. 

“Ew, don’t do that. Your hair is going to get covered in dust,” David chided as he kicked at her foot. “I don’t think you have to worry about Patrick doing that to you.”

Stevie chuckled as she pressed the palms of her hands into her eye sockets. 

“Now, I don’t know how to handle human emotions so can you get up and help me start cleaning? I’m scared of what we’re going to find.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stevie muttered as she pulled herself up to standing. 

He handed her a broom before he pulled on a pair of cleaning gloves she had brought. 

“Wait, why am I helping you clean? You never help me at the motel,” Stevie glared at him. 

“Shhh,” David held a finger up in the space in front of her lips. “We’re wasting daylight hours.”

Stevie rolled her eyes at him but moved to one corner of the store to begin sweeping as David picked up the larger pieces. 

Later, they were both sitting on the newly cleaned, shiny hardwood floors, takeout containers from the cafe set out between them.

“So what’s going on with you and Patrick?” Stevie asked as she loaded a fry with ketchup. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” David responded. He dipped his own fry into the ranch dip that Twyla had included. 

“He said you went over for dinner?” One of Stevie’s eyebrows was curled into a perfect question and David wanted to throw a fry at her, if they hadn’t just finished scrubbing the floors. 

“For a business consultation,” David corrected her. 

“He said he told you about Don?” 

“Don?” David asked, his mouth curling in disgust over the name. 

“Yeah, the flannel guy,” Stevie clarified. “You know, he seemed very adamant on making sure that both you and I knew that he was unattached.” 

“Unattached? Who the fuck uses that phrase to describe their love life?” David huffed. “Unattached.”

Stevie plowed ahead, ignoring him. “So are you going to make a move?”

“What? No!” David stabbed another fry into the ranch. 

“Do you want to?” Stevie asked. 

“No!” David’s voice rose in pitch and even he could see through the facade he was failing at putting up. 

“Your face is saying something different,” Stevie commented. David wanted to push her cart down the stairs and run away to leave her to deal with the mess on her own. 

“Ugh, fine,” David snapped. He rubbed his fingertips on his napkin as he chewed. “I went over, he made dinner and we talked business stuff and he helped me make a plan.”

“And he told you about his love life,” Stevie added.

“I may have asked about the flannel and he told me in a round-about way that he was available,” David edited her statement. 

“So are you going to ask him out?” Stevie asked again. 

“I don’t think I should,” David picked at a fry, twisting it in his fingers until it broke apart into two. “I fucked up, Stevie. I think I really broke his heart when I ran away.”

“I know you did,” Stevie agreed.

“He keeps sending mixed signals. There are some moments when he’ll be really nice to me. Or I’ll think he’s flirting, or he tells me he misses sleeping with me—but then he closes off, avoids me,” David continued. “I just feel like I shouldn’t do anything, unless I know for sure that he wants it.”

Stevie took the mutilated fry from his fingers. 

“Maybe he’s scared. You can’t hold that against him,” Stevie closed the empty containers. “You still like him.”

“Yeah, but I’m still leaving,” David said weakly. “My parents are still trying to sell the town. I don’t know where I’m going to be in a year.”

Stevie raised an eyebrow at him as she paused, halfway to standing, the trash from their dinner in her hands. 

“You’re opening a store,” Stevie said. She threw away the trash and then sat back down, her eyes narrowed at him. “Why are you opening a store if you’re going to leave?”

“I could move the store with me,” David shrugged. “Who knows if it’s even going to be a success worth taking.”

“Well, I think you’re about to start something great and Patrick’s there if you want that,” Stevie stood up. “So, it’s time I went back to the motel and put all this stuff back.”

“Okay,” David was confused at the hard change in subject but followed her anyway. 

They were back at the motel before either one of them said anything.

“Thank you for helping today,” David said as he stopped outside of the lobby, fully ready to go back to his room. 

“You owe me multiple drinks,” Stevie said in response. She opened the door and stepped through, turning back to pull the cart in with her. 

“Wanna go tonight? I’m sure the Wobbly Elm is thriving this Tuesday night,” David joked. 

“No, Patrick and I are going out tonight,” Stevie pulled the cart in. “Some other time.”

David stood in silence as the door closed behind her, his lips downturned in hurt at the lack of invitation. 

“What was that?” David whispered. He stared at the closed door for a few seconds before he turned to walk back to his room.

*

David was at the store alone with his new iPad connected to the cafe’s WiFi, he thumbed through the tabs he had opened, the faint buzzing in his ears grew as he switched between them quickly. None of the furniture he was looking at _fit_ his vision. 

There was a tap on the window and David looked up; he blinked his eyes, focusing them on Patrick who was standing on the other side of the door, his hands deep in his pockets. David got up and unlocked the door, letting Patrick in. 

“I just want to point out that it’s bad business practice to lock the door to your business. But you aren’t open yet, so I’m going to let it slide,” Patrick teased as he walked past David. 

“Well, Roland kept popping in and asking questions, so I locked him out,” David explained. 

“It looks nice in here,” Patrick marveled as he looked around. 

“There’s nothing in here,” David muttered as he walked over to where his register would eventually be. 

“Yeah, but it looks very clean,” Patrick commented. He pointed to David’s iPad, where the furniture tab was still open. “What’re you looking at?”

“Some stuff for the store,” David tapped the screen as it dimmed. “I can’t find anything I like. None of it seems like it would fit.”

“Okay, walk me through it,” Patrick said as he reached over and locked the iPad, taking it from David’s hands and placing it facedown on the counter. 

“What?” David furrowed his eyebrows at Patrick. 

“Walk me through it,” Patrick murmured as he grabbed David’s hand and pulled him into the middle of the room. He let David’s hand fall and David held it close to his hip, savoring the warmth that had enveloped him for a second. “Give me the vision.”

David took a deep breath and then walked around the store, pointing out spaces that he wanted to fill, describing furniture that he wanted to line with products. When he was done, Patrick had his fingers at his chin and nodded his head as he bit his bottom lip in concentration. 

“Do you have any furniture at all in the building? I’m having trouble envisioning walkways, so i need to block it out,” Patrick said as he turned slowly, taking it all in another time. 

“Yeah, there’s some upstairs,” David waved his hand at the staircase across from them. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Patrick turned to the direction of the stairs. 

“What?” David eyed Patrick wearily. 

“We’re going to bring some furniture downstairs,” Patrick explained, his eyes bright as he took in David’s disdain of the plan. “Come on, it’ll be quick.”

It took _multiple_ trips that left David sweaty and his sweater a little bit more than dusty, but there was furniture placed around the store. 

When they finished moving, David left Patrick’s side to open the front doors, letting in a slight breeze as the wind picked up. 

“Oh my god, that feels good,” David sighed as he stood in the doorway. There was a shuffling behind him. When he turned, Patrick was pulling off his button up shirt and the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath was freckled with sheer spots where the sweat had seeped through the cotton. 

“Are we done moving stuff?” Patrick asked as he drapped his shirt over the counter. 

“Uh—” David cut himself off as he turned away from Patrick to look around the store.

“I don’t like this situation,” David said as he waved his hand at the farthest wall. “We need to switch this over there.”

Patrick watched as David waved his way through the space, motioning between pieces of furniture with a furrowed brow. 

“Okay,” Patrick fanned his face before he nodded. “Okay, let’s move it.”

They moved a few more pieces around until they were both nodding in approval. 

“This looks better,” Patrick said as he stretched his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah,” David breathed out, his eyes zeroing on the sheen of sweat clinging to the visible edge of Patrick’s bicep. 

“You have some good pieces here,” Patrick said as he knocked on one of the long tables they had set up in the middle of the store. 

“They’re not the right shade,” David said as he forced himself to look at the tables and not at Patrick who had _definitely_ started going to the gym since the last time they fucked. “They’re too light.”

“That’s an easy fix,” Patrick ran a hand over the wood. “Just need to restain them.”

“Oh, that’s not something I’m going to do,” David shook his head as he took in the furniture. 

“I can do that for you,” Patrick offered. 

David turned to him, suspicion crawling over his skin. “Really? Why?”

“I’ve been looking for a new hobby,” Patrick shrugged. “I need to go to the hardware store and get supplies, then I can start the sanding and staining this weekend.”

“As long as I don’t have to do anything,” David leaned back against the counter. 

“It’s going to look great,” Patrick moved to stand next to David, their shoulders bumping together as Patrick leaned back. “What color stain should I get?”

David bit his lip as he turned his lip to study Patrick’s face. He looked sure and David realized what he had to do. Patrick had earned it and David trusted him. 

“Let me get my moodboard,” David said as he pushed himself to standing. 

“I thought you said I couldn’t see it because I had bad taste?” Patrick asked as he watched David move into the back room. 

“Well, you’re not going close to any paint without memorizing it!”

*

“Okay,” David said as he uncorked a fresh bottle of wine. He refilled his and Patrick’s glasses before he sat down, ready to keep looking at _dollar numbers_ and _inventory numbers._ “I was feeling good about this until you said that I need more start up money, which I don’t have.”

“I’m going to get you more money,” Patrick said as he tapped around on his laptop. 

“Oh..kay,” David let out, his brain whiting out at the tone of Patrick’s voice, so confident, in charge. Maybe he shouldn’t have poured himself another glass of wine. 

“I’ve written up a few applications for grants for you to take a look at,” Patrick opened his email and David watched him forward some files to him. “Everything else looks good. You’ve really got it in the bag, David.”

“Really?” David asked, unable to hold the shock back. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Patrick chuckled as he started to stack the papers that were scattered around the table. “Have some more faith in yourself.”

“Yeah, I don’t have any of that,” David said with a shrug. 

“You’ve already run one successful business,” Patrick reminded him. “You can do it again.”

The comment stabbed through David’s heart and he took a large sip of his wine, closing his eyes at the burn of it going down his throat. 

“About that,” David sighed. He had been avoiding this conversation since he left Toronto in a panic, the first time. Each day that passed and brought him closer to opening his store, pushed the anxiety and memories closer and closer to the forefront of his brain. “Turns out! My parents are responsible for my success. They actually, uh—” David coughed back the lump that was forming in his throat. “They bought my patrons. They paid them to buy the art, gave them money for the pieces and a little extra to make it worth their while.”

“What?” Patrick turned his whole body to face David. 

“Yeah, that’s why I came to Schitt’s Creek the first time,” David explained. He shook his head as he put his elbows on the edge of the table and covered his face with his hands. “I was visiting my parents in Toronto when my mom had three drinks too many and she admitted it when I mentioned opening a second gallery to hold more permanent collections. Every bit of success was because of them. The one thing I prided myself on,” David sat up straight and ran a finger along the brim of his wine glass. “The one thing that made me feel good...My parents bought.”

“David,” Patrick whispered, his hand wrapping around David’s forearm, stopping his movements. 

“My whole career was fake. I thought I had stepped out into the world as my own person and,” David cut himself off, tears clouded his eyes and he shook his head, willing them not to fall. “Anyways, everytime I think about the store opening, I just—”

David drummed his fingers on the table, focusing on his cuticles as he held the tears in. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “I don’t know if i can do this.”

“You can,” Patrick’s hand slipped up David’s arm and the second came up to cup his face, both hands warm on David’s jaw, turning David to look at him. “You have an amazing idea. Everything about it is good. It’s going to be a success.”

“I don’t—” David cut himself off, the words dying on his tongue at the fierce look in Patrick’s eyes. 

“David, do you trust me?” Patrick’s voice was strong, confident and David melted into the touch. 

“Yes,” David breathed out. Without a doubt. 

“Your business is going to be a success. I did this for years, giving people advice on their business, none of them ever came to me with an idea as good as yours,” Patrick murmured, his fingers stroking along David’s chin as his chin tilted up, eyes flickering away from Patrick’s, towards the ceiling. “You’ve got this.”

“Yeah?” David’s voice caught in his throat, and he looked back down and was entranced by Patrick’s eyes and the movement of his fingers. 

“Yeah,” Patrick breathed in response. 

David wanted to kiss him. Patrick was so close, just a breath away and he was looking at David like he was a treasure and David so desperately wanted to close the distance between them. He had been itching too for months, since he kissed Patrick for the last time in the doorway of his apartment. 

Patrick tilted his head, moved a hair closer and that was it. David felt a whimper pulling its way through his chest. His hands were fluttering over Patrick’s thighs, tickled his waist as he gripped the material of Patrick’s shirt. 

He was right there, their lips about to connect when Patrick’s phone rang, and they jumped apart. 

On his phone, a picture of Stevie was lit up, her eyes closed but traced in red with a peace sign thrown up. 

“Fucking Stevie,” David groaned as he sat back. Patrick locked his phone and the ringing stopped, disappearing with the photo. 

Patrick cleared his throat as he closed his laptop. David watched him put everything away and push a pile of papers to David, cleaning the mess they had created.

“Can I ask you something?” David couldn’t stop himself. Patrick’s eyes were wide and David lost his train of thought. When Patrick looked away, David decided it wasn’t the time to delve into the politics of their relationship and scrambled for something, his hands grasping for straws that weren’t there. “Is Stevie mad at me?”

He looked taken aback and David watched him process the question. Stevie had been distant lately, giving him one word answers to his texts, turning down his wine night inquiries because she was busy. 

“I wouldn’t say mad?” Patrick answered once he found his words. “She mentioned how you were still talking about leaving and hating Schitt’s Creek. Nobody feels great when all you can talk about is how badly you want to leave. So she’s probably just distancing herself for when it happens.”

David let the words sink into his brain, fill the void and settle over his heart. 

“You’re not, though,” David said. 

“I’m not what?” Patrick tilted his head at David, his hand pulling his wine glass in for another drink. 

“You’re not distancing yourself,” David said, voice as small as he felt. “Avoiding me.”

Patrick closed his eyes as he cleared his throat. 

“Can it really hurt as much as it did the first time?” Patrick’s voice was flat. He drained the rest of his glass. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“Oh, yeah,” David shook his head as the moment between them was broken. He drank the rest of his wine in one gulp. He knew when he was being dismissed. “I’ll let you rest.”

He got up, taking his glass into the kitchen, placing it down in the sink. When he got back to the table, he picked up his papers, filing them into his folder. 

“You know,” David cleared his throat as he put his folder in his bag. “I talk a lot about getting out of here, but it’s growing on me. You and Stevie help. Now the business. I think between all that, it’ll make it hard for me to leave. I just—mourn the life I lost.”

Patrick watched him back up from the table with wide eyes. His teeth were digging into his bottom lip as David got himself ready to leave. He tried to keep his eyes off Patrick, but he caught Patrick’s eyes as his pale eyebrows lifted, in a hopeful expression and David was blinded by it, unaccustomed to having that look directed at him. 

“I want you to know that,” David said as he stopped moving. He ghosted a hand over Patrick’s elbow where his arm was propped up on the back of his chair. “Goodnight, Patrick.”

The door clicked behind him as David let himself out, and he took a deep breath once he was in the hallway, feeling drained and ready for bed. 

*

The next few weeks whizzed by in a flurry of activity and David was standing at the counter of his store, staring at the shelves filled with products. It was perfect, everything in its place and David was ready to open, except there was a long line of people outside. The line wrapped around the building and down the sidewalk. 

He wanted a soft opening. He had invited a small guest list of people to preview the store with a 25% off friends and family discount to entice them to buy stuff, but the word had spread to the entire town and there were so many people outside, waiting for him to open. One person had already knocked, impatient to get to shopping and David had jumped at the sound. 

There was another knock on the door and David’s head snapped up, ready to tell the person to _get their dirty fucking knuckles off the glass._ But it was Patrick standing outside. David had called him in a moment of panic an hour ago, unsure how to work the floor and the register at the same time. 

David rushed to the door, opened it and ushered him inside before any of the potential customers could slide inside. 

“Thank you, so much,” David gasped out as Patrick placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m glad you called. I’m guessing I’m on register duty?” Patrick asked as he passed by David. 

“Please?” David owed him so much. So so much. 

“Open the door, David,” Patrick whispered from his new perch behind the counter. 

“Okay,” David breathed out a deep breath as he turned to the door. He walked over and paused with his fingers on the sign. “Are we sure?”

“Turn the sign, David,” Patrick said in his sure, take charge voice and David couldn’t help but listen to him. 

He opened the doors and soon the store was flooded with shoppers. He watched as they shuffled in and made their way around the tables. David was overwhelmed by the crowd that had shown up, but he didn’t have time to think about it. A woman he had never seen before walked up to him, a bottle of moisturizer in her hand. She asked him questions about skincare and anti-aging serums and he ushered her around the store, showing off products and answering the questions she threw at him.

As soon as he was done helping her, someone else was asking him a question and then it was a mad rush of walking customers through the store and answering questions about raw materials and vendors. When they were ready, he directed them to Patrick.

Each time he looked over, Patrick was ringing up someone new and David couldn’t have gotten through the day without him. There was no fucking way he coud’ve. 

Halfway through the day, David had to restock. The products were flying off the shelves and he tried to do it as seamlessly as possible, but he kept knocking into people with the box who were buzzing around trying to get his attention. 

“Here. Give me that,” A woman spoke from behind him and David turned to see Stevie who was grabbing the box from him. “I’ll restock while you help your customers.”

“Oh my god, thank you,” David handed her the box. 

“Of course,” Stevie murmured as they switched places. David watched her line up the bottles of toner spray. He tapped on her shoulder. 

“I’m really happy that you’re here,” David said.

“For the free labor,” Stevie teased as she wiggled the box at him. 

“No, just in general,” David turned to the person who tapped on his shoulder. “One moment please.”

He turned back to Stevie. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve been an asshole lately,” David said. Stevie raised his eyebrows at her. “I appreciate all that you’ve done and I wanted you to know that.”

Stevie narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m suspicious.”

“Oh my god! This is what I get for trying to be _nice,_ ” David turned away from her, but as he did, he noticed the smile that came across her face and he smiled too, unable to push down the happiness he was feeling. 

_Rose Apothecary_ was alive and thriving. People flowed in and out, their arms full of products. David was so proud. He could feel his heart beating in his throat as he tried to keep the emotions at bay. There was the consistent _ding_ of the register door opening and closing and David couldn’t believe that he had done it. 

_Rose Apothecary_ was alive and beating in time with his own heart. 

The sun was setting when the last person left, their products stored safely in a Rose Apothecary tote bag. 

“My work here is done,” Stevie said as she walked out of the back room, her arms full of the case of wine she bought. David had tried to give it to her for free, but she rang it up herself at a deep discount. “David, walk me out?”

“Yeah,” David opened the front door for her and followed her down the stairs to the corner of the sidewalk. An early evening breeze was settling in and David couldn’t help but wrap his arms around himself. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem,” Stevie shrugged. She put the box down gently at her feet, but the bottles still clinked together with the movement. 

“I really am sorry about the other day in the store,” David said as he kicked her foot with his.

“It’s fine,” Stevie responded. 

“No, it’s not,” David shook his head viciously. “I hurt your feelings. And I did it because I’m scared. I’m growing more and more attached to this town and I don’t know—if I was somehow given the chance—” David broke himself off to clear his throat. 

“I don’t know that I would leave,” David concluded. 

Stevie nodded her head as she listened. 

“Well,” She said. “That is nice to hear.”

“Thank you,” David responded. He took a deep breath. “And you were right. I am very into Patrick.”

“So are you going to make a move?” Stevie’s voice dropped as she peered past him to the store. 

“I think I’m going to have to,” David said as he turned to look where she was looking. He could see Patrick leaning back against the counter, phone in hand. “Pretty sure the ball is in my court.”

“He’s going to love the sports metaphor,” Stevie grinned mischievously. 

“Ew!” David jumped back in horror. “Please never tell him that I said that.”

“Oh, I’m going to,” Stevie said as she picked up her wine. 

“Ugh fine, just tell him that tomorrow,” David said as he began to walk away from her. 

“Go get ‘em tiger!” Stevie called out to him, much louder than necessary. David just held up his middle finger as he walked up the steps. Stevie’s laughter was loud as she began to walk away. 

“Well,” David said as he stepped back into the store and looked around at the mess that his shop had become. There were cupcake wrappers and plastic wine glasses strewn amongst the products and if Patrick hadn’t been looking at him with such a large smile, David would’ve been freaking out about it, at his shop in such disarray. 

“I think it’s about closing time,” Patrick nodded as he looked around, his arms crossed in front of him. 

“I guess I can flip the sign to closed?” David asked as he moved to the door. 

“Actually, I still haven’t gotten a chance to shop, so,” Patrick said as he walked around the counter and began to browse the products. “You still have a customer.”

“Well, welcome to Rose Apothecary. Can I help you find anything?” David teased as he followed Patrick. 

“Oh, no,” Patrick shook his head with a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’m just browsing.”

“Okay, well, can I show you this sunscreen? It’s formulated for the face. It’s a lighter cream and won’t clog pores. Now that it’s summer, I’ve noticed that you burn easily,” David picked up a sunscreen and handed it to Patrick. “Think you need it.”

“I don’t know if you’re supposed to casually insult your customers?” Patrick asked, his head cocked, but he took the product nevertheless. 

“Was it an insult?” David picked up another one. “This is sunscreen for your body.”

“Thank you,” Patrick nodded as he took it. “I’m running low on shampoo. You don’t happen to have a very strong opinion about my hair and which shampoo I should use, do you?”

David just nodded as he moved to pick up a shampoo and conditioner, handing it to him without a word. 

“And a face moisturizer,” David said as he picked up a blue tube of day cream. “I’ve noticed that you’re a bit dry and flakey in between your eyebrows.”

“Thank you,” Patrick said, the sarcasm thick as he juggled the containers in his arm. “I think this will be it for tonight.”

“Okay,” David breathed. 

“This is where you offer to ring it up for me,” Patrick said as he walked to the counter. David followed, but immediately put the products in the bag. 

“This doesn’t even begin to cover what I owe you,” David said as he pushed the bag towards Patrick. 

“That’s not good business practice,” Patrick teased, the bag untouched between them. 

“Well, it’s either this or pay you and I have a feeling your rate is higher than the worth of those products,” David joked, but it was true and they both knew it. 

“You could just give me a very deep ‘ex-boyfriend’ discount,” Patrick shrugged. “That way I can still support you.”

David’s heart stopped at the word ‘ _boyfriend’_ and he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop from voicing what he wanted most. 

“Have dinner with me?” David asked, his heart beating in overtime. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he realized he was _finally_ doing it. “You can support me by getting dinner with me.”

“Oh,” Patrick’s brows furrowed for a second and David realized what he said. 

“I meant that as a date,” David clarified. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” Patrick said, a small smile teasing at his lips. 

“Okay,” David breathed out a large sigh in relief as the feeling slowly creeped back into his fingers. 

The store was trashed and he needed to clean, but he had more important things to take care of.

“Let’s go right now. The cafe is still open,” David said as he rounded the counter. “We can order bad mozzarella sticks and burgers and I can kiss you at the end of the night and pretend it’s our first time.”

Patrick’s lips twitched down into a deeper smile. 

“You don’t know how badly I want to do that,” Patrick murmured as he placed a hand on David’s waist, bringing him in closer. “But the business man inside of me needs you to close the till and sweep and do your balance and all your predetermined closing activities.”

“That’ll take too long,” David said as he wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders.

“I’ll help,” Patrick whispered. “It’ll go by faster.”

“In a minute,” David ran a hand over the back of Patrick’s skull, the short hairs tickled his skin. “There’s something I need to do first.”

David kissed him, soft and gently under the lights of Rose Apothecary, sighing into the kiss as Patrick pulled him in closer, their lips slipping back into their regular routine. When he pulled away, he took in the soft look on Patrick’s face and couldn’t help but kiss him again. 

This time it was Patrick who pulled away. 

“We need to clean up now or else we’re never going to do it,” Patrick breathed. 

“One more kiss,” David pouted. Patrick shook his head as he laughed.

“Let’s go, David,” Patrick pushed at his hips and David let go, sliding his hands down Patrick’s arms until they ghosted at his hands. 

“Okay, but maybe you should call in that order,” David said, shimmying his shoulders as he walked away from Patrick. 

“Nah,” Patrick said as he shook his head, his smile teasing. “I think you’re going to be patient and sit through dinner.”

David fucking _missed_ that. 

“You’re no fun,” David said as he fiddled with the register. “You wanna do this part? I have places to be and you’re much better at money stuff.”

“Yeah,” Patrick said as he rounded the counter. He bumped his hip against David’s. “Start cleaning.”

They cleaned quickly, stopping briefly and often to trade chaste kisses that left David smiling too wide to turn the kiss into something more. After the store was put back together, Patrick led David to the cafe, where Patrick slid into the bench opposite David and immediately tangled their ankles together.

“Are you going to feed me again?” David asked. 

Patrick just shook his head and knocked his toe into David’s shin. 

“You wish, David,” Patrick said. 

But when the mozzarella sticks came, after they knocked their first bites in a cheers, Patrick fed him the next one as he leaned over the plate between them.

“Is this what you wanted?” Patrick teased as David closed his mouth around the tip of Patrick’s fingers. 

“I want to fuck you,” David murmured into the space between them. 

“Patience, David,” Patrick whispered back. “We still have the hamburgers to go.”

David had laughed and reached under the table, grabbing Patrick’s foot and pulling it to the bench next to him so Patrick’s heel was resting on the bench too. He ran his fingers over the thin skin of Patrick’s ankle, sliding between his sock and skin. 

“You gonna give me a foot rub here?” Patrick asked, eyebrows arched in a suggestion.

“Ew, no,” David batted his foot back to the ground and Patrick laughed at him until Twyla came over with their entrees. 

They ate quickly and Patrick held David’s hand as he pulled him out the door. 

“Fuck, Patrick,” David gasped as Patrick pushed him back against his apartment door. His lips were trailing biting kisses down David’s neck. “Unlock the door.”

“Wait,” Patrick murmured as he pulled at the collar of David’s sweater, just enough so he could bite the juncture between David’s neck and shoulder. 

“I’ve waited long enough. I even ate those terrible mozzarella sticks.” David huffed as Patrick pushed a thigh between his legs. He fought the urge to grind down onto Patrick’s thigh. Instead he reached into Patrick’s pocket to pull out his keys. 

He pushed Patrick off of him and turned to face the door, missing the lock with his key as Patrick pushed his hips into David’s ass. Patrick was half hard against him and David needed to get the door open. _Now._

The door gave way and they tumbled into the apartment.

“Alexa, low lights on!” Patrick called out as he held David steady, kicking the door closed behind him. 

The apartment glowed as several table lamps turned on, lighting the way to the bedroom. David tripped over Patrick’s shoes as he kicked them off, leaving them right where David was pushing him along, right around the corner to the bedroom.

“Watch where you’re putting your shoes,” David chided, his lips moving against Patrick’s chin. 

“I forgot that you’re so bossy when you’re fucking,” Patrick said. David pressed his hands into Patrick’s shoulders and pushed him down once they reached the bed.

“I’m bossy?” David chuckled. “Mmmkay, I’ll remember this once you turn all power bottom on me.”

Patrick pulled David down onto the bed next to him and David squealed as he immediately lifted his legs off the bed. 

“Shoes!” David wrestled his way out of Patrick’s arms and sat up to pull off his shoes. 

“Here,” Patrick said as he slid off the bed and kneeled at the edge. “Give me your foot.”

David watched Patrick undo the laces, unwrapping them from his ankle. 

“Can you take off your sweater? I wanna see you,” Patrick said as he pulled David’s sock off. He started on the other shoe as David pulled off his sweater and the undershirt he wore underneath. “You’re beautiful.”

Once both socks were on the floor, Patrick poked at David’s hips and David leaned back and braced himself, lifting his hips to the air so Patrick could pull off his jeans. 

“So beautiful,” Patrick mouthed up David’s right leg, stopping to dip his tongue into a dimple along David’s knee. 

“Patrick, get naked,” David said as he sat up, his hands coming to the open v of Patrick’s button up. His fingers bumped into Patrick’s as they worked together to get him naked. 

David pulled at his shoulders until Patrick was crawling over him and they were laying tangled together as they kissed. David tilted Patrick’s face until he was able to lick into Patrick’s mouth, gasping as Patrick’s hands slipped down over David’s side, his hip until he was gripping at David’s thigh and pulling it over his own hip. 

Patrick whined as David bit and pulled at his bottom lip, chasing David back into a kiss once he released him. Patrick’s tongue teased David’s as he slowly ground his hips against David’s, working their hard cocks together.

“What do you want tonight?” David asked between kisses. He pressed against Patrick’s hip until Patrick was on his back. 

“Don’t care, just fuck me,” Patrick gasped as David pinched at his hip. 

“That’s not a real answer,” David chastised as he reached to open the bedside drawer and pull out a condom and lube. He kissed Patrick again before he shimmied down his body to sit back between Patrick’s legs. 

David watched Patrick’s chest rise and fall as he blushed beneath David’s gaze. Patrick was beautiful and David couldn’t get enough of him. 

“I wanna fuck you face-to-face,” David said as he squeezed lube onto his hand. 

“Yes,” Patrick gasped as he raised his hands to grip his headboard. “Want that.”

David wrapped a slick hand around Patrick’s cock, stroking him slowly, watching intently as Patrick’s eyes slipped closed at the sensation. 

He wanted to rim Patrick, to lick his hole until he opened up beneath his touch, and tease the skin until Patrick was whimpering and begging David for more. He wanted to get his tongue on Patrick, but he needed to fully be able to see him. 

So instead he sucked the head of Patrick’s cock into his mouth, his eyes focused on Patrick’s as Patrick fought to keep them open. 

“Fuck,” Patrick groaned as his hips bucked up. David pulled off to scold him, but bit his comment back at the sheepish grin on Patrick’s face. “Sorry.”

“Oh Patrick Brewer,” David murmured as he kissed along the base of his dick, his hand still running up and down his shaft, over the tip. “What am I going to do with you?’

Patrick chuckled as David took Patrick’s balls into his mouth, running his tongue over the sensitive skin. 

“Oh,” Patrick whimpered as a slick finger teased at his ass, pushing gently at his entrance. 

“You’re so beautiful,” David said as he hummed against Patrick’s perineum and pushed his finger in, his eyes wide as Patrick opened for him. 

“Yeah?” Patrick asked, his voice breathy and shy in the space between them. The flush seeping down his neck was _divine._

“So beautiful.”

David fucked his finger into Patrick, drumming his index finger against Patrick’s prostate with each thrust. Patrick moaned loudly when David pressed a second finger into him and sucked the head of his cock back into his mouth, running his tongue over the slit.

“I missed this so much,” David murmured as he opened Patrick up, his fingers moving just how he knew Patrick liked it, and his lips moved against Patrick’s cock as he spoke. 

“I need you in me now,” Patrick begged. He let go of the headboard to reach down and nudge at David’s cheek.

“Right now?” David asked as he let go of Patrick’s cock. “Right this second?” 

“Yes,” Patrick replied, his chest moving rapidly as he watched David open the condom packet. 

“You gotta say please,” David smirked as he rolled the condom over his dick. He sighed as he stroked himself. Patrick’s mouth was opened in a wide ‘O’ as he watched David’s hand move over his cock, his cheeks flushed with a slight sheen as Patrick bucked his hips to urge David on. 

“Patrick,” David called out. 

“Huh?” Patrick’s eyes snapped up to this face. “Come here.”

Patrick held his hands out and David fell into his arms, kissing him gently as Patrick wrapped a leg around his hip.

“I need…” Patrick gasped as David reached between their bodies.

“I know,” David murmured as he sat back up, moving off of Patrick to reach the lube. “Just need a bit more lube and then I can take care of you.”

David drizzled lube over himself and used a hand to spread it, coating himself in it. He wiped his hand on his own hip before he leaned back into Patrick’s space, kissing him as he slowly pushed into him. 

“Yes,” Patrick gasped as David sunk into him. He wrapped his arms around David’s shoulders, holding him close as David bottomed out, his hips against Patrick’s ass. “Kiss me.”

David kissed him as he fucked him slowly, his lips never moving far from Patrick’s.

“God, Patrick,” David shook his head as he thought about the man beneath him. “You’re perfect.” 

Patrick wrapped a leg around the back of David’s thigh and held him close. They moved together, their bodies slick from sweat as they creeped closer to their orgasms. Patrick’s cock was trapped between them, the friction making him gasp as David moaned as he moved inside Patrick’s tight, warm heat. 

“You feel so good,” David gasped, his lips skimmed over Patrick’s jaw until he was biting at his ear. 

“David,” Patrick whined as he held onto his shoulders tighter, his nails dug into the skin and David gasped at the pleasure of it. He whimpered as David tilted his hips just a little bit. “David, fuck.”

“So glad we’re back,” David murmured. “You make me feel so good. Wanna make you feel good.”

“David,” Patrick’s voice was pleading. “I need—” 

“I’ve got you,” David said as he pushed himself up to sitting. Patrick whined as he grasped at David, his fingers slipping against David’s skin. 

David shifted onto his knees and pulled Patrick down by the hips, bringing him closer. He fucked into him, digging his fingers into Patrick’s skin as Patrick moaned at the shift in angle. 

“Yes,” Patrick grasped at the sheets next to him as he twisted in pleasure as David’s cock dragged against his prostate. “Oh my god.”

“Touch yourself,” David murmured as he ran his hands over Patrick’s skin. He could feel himself creeping closer to the edge. Every bit of him was humming as he got closer to coming. “Patrick, please, let me see you come. You’re gorgeous when you come.”

“Okay,” Patrick breathed as he stroked himself. “I’m so close.”

David’s quads were burning as his legs shook, but he was _so close._ Patrick was so close. He could hang on for as long as Patrick needed. 

He watched in awe as Patrick came over his fist, his body pulled taut as he arched his back off the bed, moaning loudly as he came. The skin of his fingers was white where he was gripping the sheets and David picked them up, untangling them from the linen. David pushed them up until he was leaning over Patrick, pining his hands to the bed on each side of Patrick’s head. 

“Fuck, Patrick,” David’s hips snapped faster as he chased his own orgasm. 

“Come on, David,” Patrick gasped. “Come on me.”

David shifted and pulled out, stripped himself of the condom. He scrambled until he was straddling Patrick’s hips, one hand still entangled with Patrick’s, but resting on David’s thigh. He fucked his fist until he was coming, spilling onto his fist and dripping onto Patrick as he shuddered through his orgasm. 

“Fuck,” David gasped as he lowered himself onto Patrick, their come slick between them. 

Patrick’s arms held him close, trapping him against him. David settled into the embrace, smiling softly as Patrick’s fingers traced up and down his spine, soothing him as his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Stay?” Patrick murmured, his voice soft in David’s ears. 

“Always,” David responded. He pressed a soft kiss to Patrick’s shoulder. 

“Okay but we have to shower before bed,” Patrick’s voice was honey in David’s ear and David was drowning in the intimacy of it. 

“One more minute,” David murmured as he tucked his fingers under Patrick’s body. 

Patrick was saying something, but David was already half to sleep and couldn’t make out the words. 

*

David woke up in the middle of the night shivering. They had fallen asleep on top of the covers, still covered in come. He got up, careful to not wake up Patrick as he padded his way to the bathroom. 

When he got back to the bed, he carefully wiped at Patrick’s stomach with the wet washcloth he brought with him. He dropped it onto the floor once they were both relatively clean.

“Patrick,” David whispered as he nudged Patrick’s shoulder. 

“Hm?” Patrick startled awake under David’s touch. 

“We gotta get under the covers,” David said as he helped Patrick climb under the covers. “Move over.”

David followed Patrick under the covers, settling himself into Patrick’s side. 

“Glad you stayed,” Patrick whispered as he ran his fingers through David’s hair. 

“One last kiss?” David asked. 

“Last kiss?” Patrick asked, suddenly awake.

“Last kiss for the night,” David reassured Patrick. 

“Good,” Patrick said as he bent down and David met him halfway, kissing him softly. Once, twice, three times. 

Then again. 

And again. Just like when David couldn’t say goodbye.

Except this time it was a greeting. 

It was a ‘ _hey, it’s been too long since our last kiss.’_

This time it was a promise.

It was an _‘I'm not going anywhere.’_

And they both sighed into it, tired of saying goodbye, and ready to start something new together. 

David was home and he wasn’t going to run away from it. Not this time. Maybe not ever. 

Patrick broke off the kiss. “Okay, we need to go back to sleep.”

“In a minute,” David said before he kissed him again. 

Patrick broke off the kiss. “We really need to go back to sleep.”

“One more kiss,” David insisted. 

They both knew “ _one more kiss”_ was a bold faced lie, but Patrick kissed him anyways, indulging David in his request. They finally stopped when Patrick couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, and even then, David stayed awake longer, peppering every available inch of Patrick’s skin with kisses. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do the thing. be safe and take care of yourself. 
> 
> and feel free to yell at me on tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> we're all in this togeetthhhheeerrr. stay safe! as safe as you can! if you work for an essential business, i thank you. 
> 
> come find me on tumblr [as samwhambam](https://samwhambam.tumblr.com/).


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